


A Bit Like Dancing

by Subtlety Lost (fishstic)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (god that tag has absolutely no feeling), (it's just so to the point and unemotional), (well shower foreplay), Condoms, Cunnilingus, EDIT: tags 'relating specifically to chapters 8 and 9' now refer to chapters 8 through 11, Eating out, F/F, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Foreplay, Lena's been through some shit, Lube, Multi, PIV Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shower Sex, Smut, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Gérard Lacroix, Trans Male Character, Trans Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, also adding in, angela may or may not show up later, but it's all about recovery, current day ish au, emily overwatch mentioned, fareeha too, relating specifically to chapters 8 and 9:, safe sex, so there may become some background pharmercy, some things that look like plot holes are not actually plot holes, they will be addressed in time, tracer/emily mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2018-12-07 02:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishstic/pseuds/Subtlety%20Lost
Summary: It's a bit like dancing, Amélie thinks, navigating around her ever growing crush on Lena. For every twirl, there is a response; for every move she makes, Lena replies in kind. Lena is a terrible dancer, Amélie knows, but it's worth it.Lena doesn't like dancing, that's what she's said, but she's willing to dance if that's what it takes to get Amélie to ask her on a date (she hopes Amélie likes girls).Gérard is just tired of his wife and his wife's 'not-girlfriend' saying they're not dating. He wonders if it's because Amélie is afraid of her 'society' friends bullying Lena.Life is a bit like dancing. [A sort of 'day in the life' style fic]





	1. Paris: Arrival

It was kind of like a dance, but kind of not. Amélie would come home, and Lena would be there, or not. Every time Amélie would ask Lena what she was doing in her apartment, sometimes Lena would actually answer. Usually she did not. Eventually Amélie stopped asking. Eventually Lena stopped showing up unannounced. Eventually Lena started showing up other places.

That Amélie, a renowned ballet dancer in Paris, had an apartment in London was something Lena had never questioned. It was something she didn’t want a reason for.

That Lena, a graffiti artist and college drop-out from London, was now sitting on Amélie’s couch in her Paris apartment was something Amélie did question.

“How the hell did you get here?” Amélie was anything but subtle with her shock.

“I took a train.” It was easy to tell that truth, it was easy to leave out that she’d wandered around Paris for a week before finally meeting someone who knew who ‘Amélie the ballet dancer’ or ‘Amélie the swan’ was.

“Why?” Amélie’s concern may or may not have been because of Lena’s penchant for showing up at the absolute worst time for anything ever. There had to be a reason, there was always a reason, something Lena wanted that she wouldn’t always just say.

“Can’t it just be because I missed you?” Lena asked, flashing Amélie a very convincing pouty face at being questioned. “Because I wanted to see you perform?”

“No, no it can’t. How did you even get in here? Do you even speak French?” Amélie started to say something else but stopped when her husband, Gérard, stepped into the front room from the hallway leading to their bedroom.

“You should be more concerned about whether or not your husband knows she’s here, chérie,” he said. “I thought I would never get the chance to meet, how did you say ‘ _The ruffian who painted a picture of you on the side of a West End theater._ ' She’s quite charming, I can see why you like her so much.” He flashed Amélie a smile then headed into the kitchen. “Lena, would you like some more cocoa?”

“See, I don’t speak French, Amélie. What have you been telling him about me?” The change in tone of Lena’s voice made it very clear to Amélie that Lena was actually afraid she’d been insulted or something. “Yes, please!”

“You’re a graffiti artist, and you painted a picture of me on the side of a West End theater,” Amélie replied. “Now, again, why are you here?”

“Oh… there was… some trouble, in London. I’m fine now, but it’s best I not be there,” Lena said. Trouble was putting it delicately, her arm still ached, and would for a long time. Fine was also putting it delicately, or maybe just outright lying.

“ _Lena,_ ” Amélie warned.

“Some arsehole decided my arm is his canvas to put insulting words on so I broke the twat’s nose now if I go back the bobbies are gonna find out I’m Tracer,” Lena said. The conclusions she’d leaped to within this whole issue were hasty, and maybe even wrong. How the police would ascertain that she’s the infamous, and wanted, graffiti artist Tracer from some guy’s broken nose was a bit of a logical nightmare. She wasn’t even what broke his nose, the bus did that.

Amélie furrowed her brow and walked over to Lena and said very calmly, “What do you mean he used your arm as his canvas?” The only time Amélie had ever heard someone refer to skin as canvas was when she was considering getting a tattoo.

“A fucking box cutter,” Lena replied. “Cuts people pretty good too. I have stitches.” Box cutters, dangerous but not illegal.

“What did he write… carve?” Gérard asked as he came back out of the kitchen with a mug of cocoa for Lena.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lena said quickly in a tone that made it clear that it did, in fact, matter. “What matters is I’m the one what’s in trouble for it, not him.” She honestly couldn’t even know if she was actually in trouble, she didn’t stick around long enough to find out why the police were looking for her. She took the mug with a small nod.

“Lena, it does matter,” Amélie said, her voice taking on a much softer tone. “Please tell us.” She caressed Lena’s cheek gently, to show her that she meant no harm, to let her know she only wanted to help.

Lena blushed and mumbled something unintelligible before she said, “Dyke.” When she noticed the shocked and confused look on Amélie’s face, she continued, “The twat saw me kiss you when I was drunk. He attacked me after I left the pub that night.”

“Lena that was two weeks ago,” Amélie gasped. None of this actually explained why Lena had came to Paris of all places. If she wanted to hide out, why not just go to her parents place in the country side?

“I had to convince the doc not to tell the bobbies where I was going,” Lena replied.

“You expect Angela to lie to the police?” Angela, Lena’s doctor, was very adamant about doctor-patient confidentiality but honestly this just sounded like a huge mess of trouble. Amélie might give her a call later, maybe that could help her understand the situation better, something about the way Lena was handling all of it told Amélie that there was more to it than what it appeared.

“I expect her to at best say ‘France’. There’s a whole lot of France, luv, and I’m one person who doesn’t even have a real valid ID,” Lena said. She bit her lip. “I just came to let you know that I’m here, not in London, so like if you see me, you wouldn’t freak out or nothing.” She started to get up but Amélie put a hand on her head and held her in place. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, Amélie was holding her by the hair, not actually holding her hand on her head.

“You are _not_ just going to drop something like that on me and then just _leave_ expecting me not to _do anything_ about it,” Amélie said fiercely.

“Just let me go, luv,” Lena said. “I don’t want to be trouble.” She started to reach up to try and get Amélie’s hand out of her hair, but stopped at the pain that shot up her arm from the stitches. Maybe she should have taken some pain killers _before_ sitting down on the couch.

“ _Trouble_ is the time you showed up at my London flat in the middle of a blizzard with the flu,” Amélie said. “’Some asshole carved the word ‘dyke’ into my arm with a box cutter and now I’m wanted by the authorities for breaking his nose in response’ is a bit more than _trouble_ , and you’re not going anywhere.” There was definitely something wrong about this whole situation, and Amélie was for damn sure not going to let Lena slip away until she figured out what it was.

Lena whimpered slightly but stopped trying to move, whether this was because Amélie was scaring her or because it hurt to be held in place by her hair was unclear.

“Chérie, I’m fairly certain threatening your girlfriend isn’t going to make her any less frightened by this whole situation,” Gérard said.

“I am _not_ dating Amélie,” Lena protested. “Am I?”

“No, but it got your attention,” Amélie stated. “You’re frightened, Lena. What’s to say that if you go out there, in Paris, a place where you don’t even speak the language, you’re not just going to get hurt more?”

Lena opened her mouth to reply then closed it. There was nothing to say that. Being unable to speak the language was why she spent a week wandering lost unable to find anything even remotely resembling a place where ballets might be held.

“Do you _even_ have a place to stay here?”

“Is not like I have one of those in London either,” Lena replied without thinking about it. “Besides I’ve already been here a week.”

Amélie released her grip on Lena’s hair. “All those times you showed up at my apartment and didn’t have a reason for being there—“

“Were because I didn’t have anywhere else to go and it was raining, or snowing, or too hot to exist, yes,” Lena replied.

“You were lost for an entire _week_ before we ran into each other,” Gérard gasped from where he had moved to, sitting in his armchair on to the left of the couch that Lena was on.

“That depends on how you define ‘lost’,” Lena replied. Was it lost if she knew vaguely where she was just not how to get anywhere?

Amélie knelt down on the floor in front of Lena, putting a hand gently on her thigh as she did so. “Lena, chérie, you need new clothes.” That wasn’t what she’d wanted to say, but knowing that Lena didn’t actually have a place to stay implied that Lena likely could fit everything she owned into the backpack she carried around with her all the time.

“If it’s cause my clothes are dirty, that’s what laundry is for,” Lena replied.

“Lena, do you even own more than one jacket?” Amélie asked in reply.

“It’s a hoodie,” Lena replied. “And no? Why would I? This one is perfectly fine.”

“Lena, it has holes in it.”

“Well how else am I supposed to wear it if it ain’t got any holes?”

Gérard chuckled from his chair. “Lena, she wants to take you shopping.”

Lena furrowed her brow for a moment then smiled and said, “Well why didn’t she just say so!” Then the smile went away just as quickly as it showed up. “I don’t like shopping. The managers or security guards always follow me around like they think I’m gonna steal from them even though I ain’t never stolen anything.”

“New clothes would solve that problem, Lena,” Amélie said. She wasn’t actually sure, here in Paris Lena was just as likely to be followed around looking nice as she was looking like she’d slept under a bridge—which all things considered, she probably had—just because she couldn’t speak French and would be labeled a ‘tourist’ and tourists were always closely watched.

“You really think so, luv?” Lena asked.

“Yes,” Amélie said. “Absolutely.”

Lena worried with her lip for a moment then said, “You’re not gonna put me in a dress, are you?”

“Chérie, nothing ruins a good look like the person wearing it being uncomfortable, if you don’t want to wear a dress then no dress in the world is going to look good on you,” Amélie said, hoping Lena understood that she wasn’t insulting her.

Lena smiled and then stood up. “Amélie, you’re brilliant.”

“I am?” Amélie asked also standing up.

“Yeah! Let’s go shopping, but you gotta buy me food to make it worth my time,” Lena replied.

“Lena, you are insufferable,” Amélie chuckled.

Lena flashed her a big grin and took her hand for a moment. “You know you love me,” she said before racing off into the kitchen to put her cup away.

“ _This girl is going to be the death of me_ ,” Amélie said to Gérard.

“ _She’s not that bad, love, I kind of like her_ ,” Gérard replied with a chuckle.

 


	2. Paris: Prelude

Passersby didn’t pay much attention to the trio standing at the edge of the sidewalk. Lena stared up at the building in front of her, while Gérard and Amélie argued quietly between themselves about where to go from there.

“I can’t read the sign,” Lena whispered. “I hate that. Amélie, can you teach me French?”

“Later, Lena,” Amélie replied without even skipping a beat in her argument that they should get food before they look for clothes.

“ _ Darling, if we get her one nice outfit first, we can all go to L’Opera. _ ”

“I don’t want to see an opera,” Lena said.

Amélie chuckled. “L’Opera is a restaurant in the Palais Garnier, where my teacher works.”

“That’s the big fancy really old opera house, right?” Lena said. “When I was looking for you people kept telling me where that was but you weren’t there.”

“I don’t work for the National Ballet Company, Lena. I prefer smaller venues,” Amélie replied. “However, I learned from one of the people in charge of that company, which might be why they kept sending you there.”

“Wait, are you two arguing about where to go to eat? When I said ‘buy me food’ I meant like an ice cream cone or something,” Lena said.

“Well, we need to have lunch anyway, so you’re going to come with us,” Amélie replied in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Where are we going?” Lena asked. “Is it fancy?”

“That’s what we were trying to decide,” Amélie replied.

“If we get you something nice to wear  _ before _ we go get food, then we can go somewhere nice,” Gérard replied.

“If I  _ have _ to eat real food, I want fish,” Lena replied.

“Of course you have to eat real food, Lena, that’s how people survive,” Amélie said. “ _ She’s going to be the death of me. _ ”

“I heard that,” Lena said. “I don’t know what it means, but I heard it. And no, people can survive off bread, cheese, and vegetables. People did that for a long long time.”

“Those things are real food,” Gérard pointed out.

“Well yeah, but they’re small food,” Lena said.

Amélie shook her head slightly. “You just don’t want us to spend a lot of money on you.”

Lena blushed in embarrassment and mumbled something about how she wasn’t worth much money and didn’t need pity.

“Lena, we’re not doing this because we pity you,” Amélie said.

“We’re doing it because we care about you,” Gérard added.

Lena shook her head slightly. “You shouldn’t spend money on me.” She stuck her hand in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her wallet. “I have money,” she said, opening her wallet to figure out that she has all of five euros. “I can get a crepé.”

“Lena, you are  _ not _ getting a crepé and calling it lunch,” Amélie said.

“Who’s gonna stop me?” Lena challenged.

“You are, you don’t speak French, remember?” Amélie said.

“I’m sure I can find somewhere that has a crepé without needing to speak French. Paris  _ likes _ tourists,” Lena argued.

“Maybe ones that don’t look like they slept under a bridge. Do you  _ ever _ brush your hair?” Amélie said. “Besides that, I’m sure you’re aware that  _ most _ French people extremely dislike when someone doesn’t bother to learn the language before coming here.”

“You brushed it for me before we left,” Lena said. “Not my fault it’s fluffy.” She looked down slightly and nodded. “I know, but I have you.”

“I can’t be with you all the time, Lena.” Amélie really didn’t want to argue with Lena while they were still on the side of a road. People were starting to look at them weirdly.

“No, but you’ll teach me French,” Lena said.

“I never said that,” Amélie replied. “Look, if you let us spend money on you because we  _ want _ to do that, then maybe I’ll teach you French. And  _ maybe _ I’ll let you buy a crepé and call it lunch, but wouldn’t you rather have fish?” She put her hand gently on Lena’s shoulder.

“I would…” Lena started to argue that she’d rather pay for her own food, but stopped. She couldn’t pick a crepé over fish, she wasn’t even entirely sure if a crepé was what she thought it was or not. “I would rather have fish.”

“Then it’s settled,” Amélie stated.

“ _ How is that settled? Do you even know what kind of fish she wants? _ ” Gérard asked.

“ _ I do, but she may be disappointed when I tell her there’s nowhere around here that sells it, _ ” Amélie replied.

Lena bounced on her feet slightly, impatiently. She didn’t want to go in the store without Amélie, because she wasn’t even entirely sure they were at the right place. There were clothes in the window of the store, but there were clothes in the window of  _ a lot _ of stores around here. After a moment of impatient waiting, a thought wormed its way into her head.

“Amélie, how do you do this?” she asked quietly.

“What?” That was a confusing statement to Amélie, surely Lena wasn’t asking how someone shops for clothes.

“How can you afford to spend money on me? I mean… how much are we even talking about here? This place… is a lot fancier than anywhere else I’ve ever shopped.”

Amélie and Gérard shared a slightly confused look. They hadn’t been aware that Lena didn’t know that Amélie didn’t need to worry about money. “Lena, chérie, don’t worry about how much money—“

“I  _ have _ to, Amélie,” Lena interrupted. “Maybe… maybe you don’t know what it’s like, to have to worry about money, to not know when the next time you might be able to eat is, to have to choose between getting a new shirt or eating, but I  _ do. _ And that isn’t something that just stops or goes away because a friend asks it to.” She bit her lip slightly. She didn’t want to sound angry, or hurt. Even though she was a bit hurt.

Amélie didn’t reply at first, considering things carefully. Lena didn’t like handouts. She didn’t like when it was implied that she couldn’t take care of herself. These were facts that Amélie knew. She knew Lena had stopped coming to her London apartment because she didn’t want to feel like a burden, Unsure of exactly what else to do, she took a small step forward and then hugged Lena. “I’m sorry, chérie.”

“What are you apologizing for,” Lena replied putting her hands on Amélie’s arms. She wasn’t displeased or even confused by the hug, but she was concerned by the apology. Amélie didn’t have anything to apologize for, she hadn’t done anything wrong. “It’s not like it’s your fault I don’t have money.”

“I could give you some,” Amélie replied. “I haven’t because I didn’t think you would accept it. I don’t want you to think that I think you can’t take care of yourself.”

Lena started to reply that she didn’t want to take Amélie’s money, that she was sure Amélie needed it more than her, but she stopped. “I’m going to end up finding out eventually, probably some way that I’d rather not, but… just how much money is it that you even have that you don’t gotta worry about it. That you are so comfortable with the thought of just  _ giving _ me money without asking for something in return?”

“To put it plainly, a lot,” Amélie replied. “That flat in London? The apartment here in Paris? Both of those I actually own. My parents own a chateau in southern France. Chateau Guillard, a private estate.”

“Why don’t you live there?” Lena asked quietly.

“Because I want to live with my husband,” Amélie replied. “It’s easier to work in Paris if you  _ live _ in Paris. We go to the chateau in the off-season, when the ballet isn’t running. Not every time, but a lot of them. I go to London fairly often because I can, and because you’re there.”

“That doesn’t really do much to answer the question about money,” Lena said.

“Most of it is my parents’,” Amélie replied. “When I go to London, and growing up too, I heard a lot about rich children whose parents don’t help them. Who don’t like their parents, or whose parents don’t actually trust them with ‘their’ money. My parents and I, have a very happy relationship. We love each other very much, and they believe it’s their duty to assist me. As my father said, ‘a child doesn’t ask to be born, parents have to provide for their children, it’s not a choice it’s an honor.’ He believes that the money they have is as much mine as it is theirs. So if I ask, they give. I don’t have to ask often, because I have my income from the ballet and we have Gérard’s income as well.” She paused as she considered what to say next.

Lena didn’t say anything, sensing that the pause in Amélie’s speech was because she was thinking.

“I could, if you were willing to let me, fully support you,” Amélie continued. “It wouldn’t be a problem at all. My parents, would support me in that.”

“I would support her in that as well,” Gérard supplied.

“I… I don’t want this to sound bad,” Lena said. “But even as much as I  _ need _ the money, I can’t let you do something like that. It… it feels too much like being a child. I’m not a child, too many people think I am. I have to do something to earn that, to deserve it.”

“What if I gave you a job?” Gérard asked. “Would you let us support you then?”

“What do you mean?” Lena asked.

“Well, you’re a graffiti artist, right? To do that, you must be pretty good at getting places unseen,” Gérard said.

“Gérard you are  _ not _ —“

“Amélie, she would not get hurt doing what I want to ask of her—“

“You are  _ not _ asking my—her to spy on people for you.”

Lena smiled excitedly. A spy would be fun, Part of her heart was caught on what Amélie might have been about to say before correcting herself. “I can be a spy! That would be fun!”

“Not a spy,” Gérard said, “an informant, she’d just need to keep an eye out for things and people that look or act suspicious.”

“Gérard, you know damn well that  _ one _ person, cannot be relied upon to pick out where… things might happen.” Not a smart idea to just blurt out the words ‘terrorist attack’ on a busy Paris street.

“Wait,” Lena said. “Like… a terrorist watch or something? Don’t I actually have to be hired and trained by your agency to do that? That’s not going to work out. Do you have any other suggestions?”

“I know several people who have been looking for someone to help them with renovations because they don’t have the time or money,” Gérard said. “If you’d be willing to help them out, I could pay you for it, and we’d be helping both them and you.”

“What kind of renovations?” Lena asked. “I’m… not all that good at putting stuff back together once I’ve broken it apart.”

“You can paint,” Gérard said. “A lot of them just need cosmetic work, paint mostly. Help moving furniture. Small things like that.”

“Lena, why do you do graffiti?” Amélie asked. She had seen Lena’s art before, it was very beautiful. If it could be sold, it probably would sell well.

“I can’t afford canvas, especially not the size I’d need for my art,” Lena replied. “It’s actually how I get what little money I do get. Sometimes store owners will hire local artists to paint ads or murals on the sides of their stores.”

“Can you make art on a computer?” Amélie asked. She was thinking that she might be able to convince Lena that art was  _ worth _ allowing herself to be supported. “Or do you only do traditional.”

“I could probably learn to do digital,” Lena replied. “Why?”

“Would you allow us to support you,” Amélie said, “in this way: let us provide you with supplies, food, and a roof over your head, while you make and sell your art. It’s not... not like you’d be a child. Though it is a bit like family.”

Lena thought about this. It would be a lot easier for her to save up to get a flat if she already had a place to be to begin with, at least on the short term. Amélie was offering her something she desperately needed, and she was doing so simply because she cared. It would be rude to turn the offer down. “So a family can be a husband, his wife, and his wife’s best friend?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” Gérard replied.

Lena nodded. “Then… I will try.” She smiled and gently ran her hands over Amélie’s arm for a second before saying, “Amélie, you’re still holding me.”

Amélie blushed hotly and released Lena from the hug. “Well, yeah… you didn’t tell me  _ not _ to hug you.”

Lena just chuckled in response and headed toward the store, feeling a little more reassured about the whole situation.

“ _ She’s not your girlfriend, you say,”  _ Gérard said smiling at his thoroughly embarrassed wife. “ _ You sure don’t act like she’s not.” _

“ _ Why do you tease me like this?” _ Amélie replied still blushing.

Gérard smiled and pulled Amélie into a gentle hug, and placed a quick gentle kiss on her lips. “ _ Because I love you, my darling. And I hate seeing you hold back on something you love. I do not think she would be adverse to you admitting you love her.” _

_ “She thinks I’m straight,”  _ Amélie replied. 

 


	3. Paris: Allemande

****

One of the things Amélie simultaneously loved and hated about Lena was her ability to  _never sit still_. She often found the boundless energy that Lena seemed to possess admirable. Just as often she found it exhausting. Currently, she found it annoying. Lena was running around the store checking every single rack of clothes for something she might actually wear that Amélie would agree to buy for her. It was quite dizzying to watch, but to her surprise Lena hadn’t run into anyone or knocked anything over yet.

“ _Excuse me, sir, madam, can you please control your child,”_  one of the employees said after walking up to Amélie and Gérard.

Amélie tilted her head slightly. “ _Gérard, love, do we have a child?”_

 _“I think he means Lena,”_  Gérard replied.  _“As far as I know we don’t have any children.”_

Lena started to zip past Amélie toward a display of jackets and Amélie stopped her by grabbing the back of her hoodie as she did so. “Lena, could you maybe slow down a little? Gérard and I can’t keep up with you.”

“Oh! Right, sorry luv.” Lena walked away slowly after that, still toward the display of jackets.

“ _Lena is a grown woman,”_ Amélie said to the employee. “ _If you want her to stop running in your store, ask her yourself.”_

The employee sighed slightly in frustration, but walked away without an argument. He didn't seem to think it necessary to argue about this when there were other things to do and other customers to help. 

Amélie took Gerard's hand gently and motioned with her head toward Lena who was holding up a leather jacket and appeared to be trying to determine if it was her size without actually trying it on. " _We should probably assist her._ "

Gerard nodded. " _I agree, but I also think it's important that we find some way to make sure she's aware we don't think badly of her for being a little awkward at clothing shopping, after all, she's probably not done it in a while."_

Amélie smiled and kissed her husband's cheek briefly. " _You are precious._ "

" _And you are as well,"_ he replied. 

They walked over to Lena after that. Lena was still trying to determine the size of the jacket, but now also seemed to be simply trying to figure out how the zipper worked as well. Though the problem wasn't actually the zipper not working or being oddly designed. It was, in fact, a normal zipper, it had just gotten some of the lining stuck in it on the inside of the jacket. A problem Lena could easily fix, if she could just locate it.

"May I see it, Lena?" Amélie asked. "What's the problem anyway?"

"I think the zipper's stuck," Lena replied handing the jacket over to Amélie. "I can't figure out what it's stuck on though."

Amélie took the jacket and examined it carefully. She ran her fingers over the front of the zipper, then the back. She located the problem with ease. Getting it undone was a different issue all together for Amélie. She didn't want to risk ripping the lining, but the zipper being stuck was a bad thing in general. She did manage to get it all fixed up, and the zipper unstuck and unzipped. So she handed the jacket back to Lena.

Lena smiled and put on the jacket, it was a simple dark blue jacket with a hood and a fake fur lining on the inside. She grinned. “Hey it fits!”

Amélie chuckled slightly. “It looks good on you.”

After a moment of pause, Lena added carefully, “This is the only thing I’ve found so far that I feel okay asking if I can get.”

“Do you not like the clothes that are sold here? We can go somewhere else if you want,” Amélie replied gently.

“It’s not that,” Lena said, “I… just don’t know.” She wasn’t sure how to put into words that she felt scared accepting this help. That she was sure in her mind—even knowing her mind was wrong—that Amélie would ask something of her, would put some kind of condition on this help. She’d been there before, so many people when she was growing up would offer her help, offer to buy her nice things, but put a price on them that often times made it cheaper for her to just save up on her own.

“Maybe,” Lena said, “you could pick out clothes for me? And I tell you if I like them?”

Amélie was uncertain of the reason behind Lena’s sudden hesitation to pick the clothes herself, but she wasn’t about to disappoint her friend. “Of course, Lena,” she replied. At first she felt it would be an easy task, but as she perused the racks of clothes with Lena right by her side she started to realize a problem. Lena wouldn’t wear most of the clothes in this store, at least in the women’s section, because Lena preferred looser fitting clothes like hoodies, jackets, and t-shirts that were a size or two too big.

After searching a half dozen racks for _anything_ that Lena might wear, she settled on a couple plain t-shirts and a red and black stripped shirt. Pants would have to wait, nothing in here would suit Lena, their pants selection being mostly limited to dress pants, work pants, or skirts. As she passed the clothes to Lena, she noticed that Lena had at some point picked up three pairs of assorted leggings, one orange and yellow, one deep purple, and another galaxy print. “You like those?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Lena replied. “I like leggings.”

“Do you want more things like them?” Amélie asked. She turned to her husband then, he knew of places to get clothes that Lena might actually like. She was sure he did, because he wore them sometimes. “Gérard, where did you buy those band shirts you own?”

“Well… some of them I got at concerts,” Gérard replied, “others I got at thrift stores. There’s a few stores around that sell things like that.”

“You would…” Lena started but stopped. It felt like it might be kind of insulting to ask Amélie if she would actually buy her things she liked.

“Buy you things you like, shocking isn’t it,” Amélie chuckled. “Lena, like I said before, nothing ruins a good look like the person wearing it being uncomfortable wearing it. Besides that, I think you look cute in geeky things. Like your glasses, where are they anyway?”

“I don’t… I don’t have my glasses anymore,” Lena admitted rather reluctantly. “They kind of… got broken.”

Amelie frowned, now certain that there was more to Lena’s situation than she’d ever be willing to talk about. “Do you need them to see?”

“I can see just fine,” Lena protested, “Well mostly. I can’t see far away things very well, but like, I don’t need to wear my glasses all the time.”

“There’s no need to protest, Lena,” Amelie said. “I was going to offer some reading glasses if you might need your glasses for close up things. Or aspirin, I hear that not wearing your glasses when you need them can give you a headache.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Lena said with a smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome Lena, but like I’m serious, do you need any aspirin,” Amelie replied.

Lena considered this. Her arm _was_ still killing her, she could definitely use something for that. Though she was positive aspirin wouldn’t be strong enough. “I could use something a good bit stronger than aspirin,” she said.

“Stronger than aspirin, huh?” Amelie considered what she might have that would be stronger than plain aspirin. The answer was… just about anything really, even a bottle of wine was a stronger painkiller than aspirin. At least it was in Amélie's opinion. Lena probably would prefer something like rum or whiskey, or paracetamol. That last one was probably more what Lena meant than ‘hey, I want something to drink’. Or did she need something even stronger? “We can get you some Prontalgine,” she said.

“You think that’d work?” Lena asked.

“How badly are you hurting?” Amélie asked quietly. “You said you have stitches, how bad does it actually hurt. I’d wager that it must hurt a lot with you using your arm so much.”

Lena frowned slightly. She never meant for Amélie to be so concerned about her, not in the slightest. It did feel kind of nice though, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. Lena would, of course, never admit to crushing on her probably straight best friend. That was like lesbian for ‘I enjoy my own heartbreak’ or something.

“Lena,” Amélie said gently. “Are you going to answer the question?”

“Oh, umm… it does kind of hurt, but I can mostly ignore it,” Lena replied. “It doesn’t hurt so much when I don’t move the arm, I can use my arm, like to hold things and stuff. It hurts when I move it.”

“Didn’t Angela prescribe you some pain medicine?” Amélie asked.

“Dr. Ziegler? She said she could, and asked if I wanted her to. I told her no, that it’d be cheaper for me to just buy some over the counter.”

“And what did she say to that?” Amélie mused.

“That I’m an idiot, but she respects my choice anyway,” Lena said.

“She didn’t,” Amélie gasped.

“Well… not in those words, but… you know that accusing stare mums get when you don’t follow their advice and something bad happens just like they said it would? She had that look,” Lena explained.

“Wow,” Amélie replied. “She really gave you that look? I’m surprised you didn’t change your mind on the prescription. She’s like, the queen of that look.”

“How do you even know her?”

Amélie shrugged. She didn’t exactly remember how she’d met Angela. It was a long time ago, in her mind anyway.

“I introduced them,” Gérard replied. “For a while, Angela worked closely with a hospital that works closely with my agency. She would follow me to the ballet sometimes, I think because she found the music calming. From there, I introduced her to Amélie.”

Amélie nodded. That sounded about right, plus Gérard wouldn’t lie about it.

“I still don’t understand,” Lena replied. “How did that lead to you knowing her so well?’

“Oh, I barely know her at all,” Amélie replied. “We’re acquaintances, nothing more. I know her girlfriend’s mother.”

“You hit her girlfriend’s mother in the face,” Gérard corrected.

“I was _drunk_ and _she_ started that fight,” Amélie argued.

“She did not,” Gérard said. “You dared her that she couldn’t hit you, then you got mad when she did.”

“I was _drunk_ and I apologized.” Amélie frowned. The Amari’s didn’t exactly like her after that night, but they still liked Gérard which was good, considering they worked closely with his organization sometimes.

Lena frowned slightly, unsure of whether or not she should say anything at all about any of this. None of it made much sense to her, but then again she was a bit tired, and more than a bit hungry. “Are we done shopping here?” she asked. “Or is there something you think we might have missed, Amélie?”

Amélie looked around for a moment. There wasn’t a lot of things in this store Lena would wear. Well… maybe there was, actually. Amélie had never seen Lena wear flannel or plaid, but that didn’t necessarily mean Lena wouldn’t, and because it was getting closer to winter, there was a lot of flannel available. “Lena,” Amélie said. “Are you a lesbian?”

Lena blushed hotly at that. “Yes, why? Do I look like one? I think I should.”

“No,” Amélie said. “But if you want to, I can help.”

“Oh really?” Lena challenged. “The straight girl is going to show me how to look like a lesbian?”

“I’m bi, Lena,” Amélie replied, “And I just thought you might like me to show you where the flannels are.”

“So just because I’m gay, I need flannel?” Lena asked.

“I didn’t mean to insult you Lena, I just—“ Amélie started, she couldn’t have Lena think she’d offered that to be insulting or stereotyping or anything.

“I think you might be on to something there,” Lena interrupted. “If _you_ don’t think I look gay, then how is any other girl going to know I’m gay?”

“So you’re not upset?”

“Depends,” Lena replied. “Did you suggest that because I’m a lesbian or because you think I’d look good in flannel?”

Amélie considered the question for just a second. Would Lena think she was flirting if she said it was the second? Would Lena _hope_ she was flirting? _Would_ she be flirting _?_ “I think you’d look amazing in flannel.”

“Then I would love for you to show me where the flannel is kept,” Lena said. “And I’m not upset with you for suggesting I get some.”

“ _She’s not my girlfriend,_ ” Gérard teased. “ _Are you sure?”_

“ _Gérard, one more quip like that and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,”_ Amélie replied as Gérard chuckled. “Flannels are this way, Lena.” She took Lena’s hand and led her over to the other side of the store, where the cold weather clothes were displayed.

Lena grinned at the flannel display, it was a set of shelves lined with various colors of flannel. Colors she didn’t even know flannel came in. Some with designs, some without. She’d never seen so many flannels in one place before. “There’s so many.”

“What’s your favorite color, Lena?” Amélie asked. “Pick as many as you’d like.”

“I like orange,” Lena said. “And blue, oh but not together. They look weird together. Orange and purple look good together.”

“We’ll see if they have flannels in those colors then,” Amélie said, reaching over to pull a purple flannel off the shelf. “Are you still sure that you don’t like shopping?”

“Only like it when you’re here, luv,” Lena replied. “Only with you.”


	4. Paris: Courante

It had been a bit of a task for Amélie to decide where exactly they were going to eat lunch, and more of a task for Lena to pick what clothes she was going to wear. Amélie had to think quite a bit to determine what it was that Lena might actually want to eat, and Lena had to pace around in front of the bed in her room—Amélie’s former guest bedroom—in nothing but the sports bra she was wearing for just about twenty minutes arguing with herself over what color was the ‘right’ color for the day. It was only when Amélie tossed her a dark blue hoodie which landed on the bed right beside Lena that Lena stopped pacing around. When she picked the hoodie up off the bed she noticed her two medicine bottles sitting there and frowned, dropping the hoodie next to them. She picked up one of the bottles and got one pill out of it, then got two pills out of the other and downed all three at once with some water from the bottle on the nightstand.

“Chérie, I do hope you’ll wear a shirt under that,” Amélie said when Lena took the hoodie back n her hands. “We are going to McDonald’s.”

Gérard chuckled in the background. “Really, mon amie, I thought we were going somewhere nice for lunch.”

“It’s just lunch, I think we should treat Lena to food I know she’ll eat,” Amélie replied. “We can save the fancy stuff for dinner.

“So I can get fish?” Lena asked expectantly.

“Yes, and those potato things you like,” Amélie replied.

Lena practically squealed in happiness at that. “You’re the best, luv.”

“Right, so… are you going to put a shirt on?” Amélie said.

“Oh… I have to?” Lena asked.

“Unless you want me to subject you to my mother’s cooking, then yes.”

“ _Amour de ma vie_ , we are not going to your parents’,” Gérard said. “I have work in the morning and you _know_ they won’t let us come for only a few hours. The drive is, entirely too long.”

“Aww, he called you the love of his life,” Lena said, “that’s adorable.”

Amélie and Gérard both blinked at that.

“I thought you don’t speak French, Lena,” Gérard said.

“I learned a few phrases, only the really really important ones,” Lena replied, “Like: ‘ _amour de ma vie’_ or ‘ _Tu as de beaux yeux_ ’ or _‘Si je t’aide à apprendre l’anglais, est-ce que tu m’apprendras comment embrasser à la française?_ ’ Can’t move to Paris and _not_ know how to flirt with pretty girls.”

Amélie blushed hotly.

“You taught her that didn’t you?” Gérard asked. “You are insufferable sometimes, mon amie.”

“Don’t be like that, she didn’t teach me,” Lena replied. “Well not all of it. Some of it, less important things like ‘Bonjour, je m’appelle Lena.’ And ‘Quel chemin vers les toilettes?’”

“You think telling people your name is less important than flirting?” Gérard asked skeptically.

“Well yeah, you don’t come to a place trying to hide and just _tell people who you are_.”

“What else do you know?” Amélie asked.

“Well there is the one special thing, I’ve been saving it for someone like you,” Lena replied as she sat the hoodie down and picked up the red and black flannel shirt that Amélie had helped her find, putting it on. _“Le ciel doit être un endroit sur Terre, parce que vous, mon cher, êtes un ange._ Heaven must be a place on Earth, because you, my dear, are an angel. _”_

“ _Are you sure she isn’t your girlfriend?”_ Gérard asked Amélie, once more.

“Lena who taught you that?” Amélie asked blushing and ignoring Gérard’s quip.

“I came up with it myself, and got the French teacher from the secondary school I went to to translate it for me,” Lena replied. “I’m not sure about how formal or informal that might actually sound in French, but I thought the English sounded good.”

“Is that a reference?” Gérard asked. “You’re flirting with a reference to a song from before you were even born,” he noted.

“Hey, just because it’s from the 80s doesn’t mean I can’t reference it. I mean, have you heard it? It’s a perfect love song,” Lena argued.

“Lena, no offense meant by this, but… how old are you?” Gérard asked.

“I’m 23, why?” Lena replied. “Is… is that a problem?”

Amélie paled slightly then. “You’re _only_ 23?”

Lena bit her lip and paused as she was zipping up the hoodie Amélie had tossed her. “It… it _is_ a problem, isn’t it?” she asked sadly.

“No, Lena… it’s just—“

“No, I get it,” Lena interrupted. “You’re older than me. Probably way too much older to ever like someone like me. I get it.” She finished zipping up the hoodie. “I get it, it’s no big deal,” she continued even though it was a big deal. “You’re the adult here.”

“Lena, you’re an adult too.”

“No, not really,” Lena replied. “I can’t adult correctly. I can’t even get a crush correctly. I mean… it’s not a problem, can we just… let it go?”

“I’m sorry,” Gérard offered. “I didn’t mean to cause a problem.”

“I said _let it go,_ ” Lena replied. She was very careful not to snap that, or say it as sad as it should have been. She was very careful not to put _any_ emotion into it at all. “Please, can we just go to lunch and forget about it?”

Gérard nodded slightly, and walked away, whispering to Amélie “You and her need to work this out, I don’t think it’s something she’ll listen to me about.” Then he announced aloud, “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

After he had left, Amélie stepped forward and said very carefully, “Lena, chérie, I want to make sure you understand this, and you understand it well: I do not think any less of you just because you’re younger than me. I do not care any less about you because of your age. Whatever issues you have with me being older than you, we can work out.”

“ _I said let it go,”_ Lena snapped that time. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to care. I don’t want to hear it. How much it _doesn’t matter_ or how much ‘age is a number’ or shite like that. I _do not_ want to hear it, especially from you. You should know better.”

Amélie flinched. She hadn’t been expecting that kind of anger out of Lena. She hadn’t been expecting _any_ anger out of Lena. “Lena… if it matters, I’m 30. I thought you already knew this, that’s why I never mentioned it before.”

“Like I said,” Lena replied coldly, “you should know better.”

Amélie didn’t say anything to that. She wasn’t sure what she could say. Lena was right, in her way, that Amélie definitely knew the dangers of going into a relationship with someone so much younger than her if that person wasn’t mature enough to handle it, or unwilling to handle it. She knew that, but she also knew that’s why she was letting Lena take the lead, why she always only ever went as far as Lena would let her, often times not even actually flirting with Lena unless Lena said something flirtatious first. At the pub, the night Lena had been attacked, Lena had kissed her first.

Lena frowned at Amélie’s silence. There wasn’t even a little argument from her friend, which meant that she knew how true her words had been, and it must have struck a nerve with her. “You know better, Amélie, that’s why you’re the mature adult, and I’m just some dumb kid who happened to think for a moment that I could get away with having a stupid crush on someone, someone I already knew would never be able to return the favor.”

Amélie sucked in a breath. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with Lena at this moment, and she wasn’t entirely sure what, but she _knew_ any attempt she made to try and remedy the situation, or even inquire about where the sudden anger had come from, would only be met with more hostility.

“You’re mature, you’re _married_ , you have your life figured out,” Lena went on. “You’re in the ballet, you’re rich, your husband has his life together too. You’re better than me in every way. You’re the adult. I’m just a fuckup. I dropped out of university because I couldn’t handle it. I got fired from my job with the newspaper because of it. I can’t hold a job for more than a week. I don’t have a home. I’m a fuckin criminal. I have a legitimate criminal record of petty theft from when I was still in secondary school. That’s got nothing on the crimes I commit that I haven’t been caught at yet. I am _nothing_. Deep down you know that. You think you can fix it. That you can make it all better, because you’re older and more mature, but deep down you know that’s bullshit.”

Amélie tried to think of something _anything_ she could say to that that wouldn’t just convince Lena that it was all true. There was nothing, nothing seemed right. Everything would just make it all worse. “I don’t think I can make it all better, or fix it,” she said, “I think you can heal, but that’s not the same as someone ‘fixing’ your current issues. I want to help you. For now, since this conversation is getting us nowhere, please, come with me to lunch. You might feel a little better after you eat, I know you just took your medicine, you probably shouldn’t be too long with an empty stomach after that.”

Lena opened her mouth to argue but then stopped. Her medicine. Normally taking either of them without food would make her sick, but she’d taken both. It was a small wonder that she hadn’t already gotten sick from it. “I think I need a nap,” she said instead of the argument that she didn’t _need_ anyone to look after her, that she didn’t _need_ anyone’s help. “Can I take a nap on the way there?”

“Of course, Lena, if that’s what you want, you can even bring a pillow if you’d like.”

Lena nodded and turned around for a moment to grab a pillow off the bed that Amélie had declared was hers when they got back from shopping. “Désolée, chérie,” she said quietly, not knowing why, and not even remembering what the words meant to her. “You’re so much smarter than me.”

Amélie shook her head slightly. “You are very smart in your own way, Lena, and it’s not any less smart than my way. It’s just different smart about different things, I don’t know anyone else who can fly a plane.”

“That’d be more comforting if it wasn’t the reason my parents are gone, and I have no where left to go but your side,” Lena said bitterly, then she yawned and pushed past Amélie to the door. “Let’s just go,” she added before walking out.

Amélie frowned and made to follow after Lena, but stopped and instead picked up the medicine bottles off the bed. She didn’t recognize the name of the first medicine, but something stuck out to her about the two of them. One of them, which the label listed the directions as being ‘take one every four hours as needed for pain’, was prescribed to Lena Oxton. But the other, which the instructions were replaced by a strip of paper that just said ‘don’t take more than three a day or you’ll probably die, kid’ wasn’t prescribed to Lena, the name on the label was blacked out with a marker, but it was way too long to be Lena’s name. She recognized the name of that second one, Adderall. She knew what it was _supposed_ to be used for, but she wasn’t entirely sure if that’s what Lena was using it for, especially since it wasn’t actually prescribed to her.

“Are you coming or not?” Lena called impatiently from somewhere down the hallway.

“I am,” Amélie replied, setting the bottles back down. She wondered if they had something to do with Lena’s sudden anger, irritability, however it should be worded. She had, after all, only just taken the medicines a few moments before. It could have been coincidence, but most likely wasn’t. She was sure that she couldn’t just ask Lena about it though, it was possible that Lena was abusing the medicine, but it was also possible that Lena legitimately needed it and just got it illegally for some reason. Either way, Lena would probably get mad if asked about it.

Amélie hurried out of the room and caught up with Lena at the end of the hallway. Lena was yawning. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, chérie.”

“It’s whatever,” Lena replied turning and heading toward the door out of the apartment. “I want fish, and I want chips. I want you to not lie to me,”

“I don’t lie to you, Lena,” Amélie replied, following close behind.

“If you say so,” Lena replied, she just wanted to go already. She was hungry, and it asn’t any fun standing around being angry at everything. She really wanted to stop being angry at things. Especially, since she wasn’t sure what the reason for the anger was.

“Lena, I promise, whatever you want, I’ll make sure you get it,”  Amélie said, trying to reassure Lena in whatever small way she could.

For a moment, Lena didn’t say anything. She thought about the things she might want and then, without being sure why she just replied, “What if I say I want a motorcycle?”

“Can you even ride one?” Amélie asked. “I thought you told me you don’t know how to drive?”

“A Vespa then,” Lena replied. “Or a bike.”

“You want to be able to go places whenever you want,” Amélie guessed, making sure she understood this properly. “If you find something like that, a specific one you want, then I’ll help you get it. And you can have both, a bike for really short distances and a Vespa or whatever similar thing for longer rides.”

Lena blinked and then said, “Désolée, you’re so bloody nice to me and I’m so irritated by it and I don’t understand why.”

“It’s okay,” Amélie replied. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I guess,” Lena replied. “It might be okay. Hey, were you serious that you’d buy me anything I want.”

“Of course, chérie,” Amélie replied. “Anything.”

“I want… I want to visit my parents.”

“I thought you said they were dead? I can help you visit their—”

“I said they’re gone, not dead,” Lena replied. “They don’t like me.”

“Then why do you want to visit them?” Amélie asked, surely Lena wouldn’t actually want to visit people who dislike her. That would be a horrible thing to do.

“Flying planes is all I have of them,” Lena replied, “They got me into the RAF and it’s my own fucking stupidity that got me kicked out. But… it’ll be better this time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because this time, I can tell them they were right to not want me to join the RAF,” Lena replied. “This time, it won’t be a fight.”

“Why’d they get you in if they didn’t want you to join?” Amélie mused.

“Because… because I lied to them,” Lena replied. “I thought the RAF would change things somehow. So I lied to them. I told them it would change things. That if they helped me join, I would be different. I made them believe I thought the RAF would change me… that it’d make me… better.”

“Better?” Amélie mused. “Better how?”

“I don’t know,” Lena replied. “Not a criminal, I guess. Not… not gay.”

“You don’t want to be gay?” Amélie asked. “I thought you were proud of who you are.”

“I _am_ ,” Lena protested as they made their way out of the building. “I just… my parents weren’t.”

Amélie frowned as she opened the car door for Lena. “If you think that visiting your parents will help somehow, I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you,” Lena replied. “It won’t help, but thank you.” She crawled into the backseat and laid down with her head on the pillow.

Amélie closed the door and got into her own seat in the car after that. “I have a theory,” she whispered to Gérard. “After lunch, I’ll tell you about it.”


	5. Paris: Bourrée

Finding a McDonald’s to go to for lunch would have been a lot simpler if Amélie hadn’t insisted upon going to one farther away from their apartment rather than one close to it. “Lena wants to take a nap,” she told Gérard quietly, motioning toward Lena asleep on their backseat. “We should give her a chance to actually sleep a bit.”

“Chérie, I love you to death, but you’re going to get us lost,” Gérard replied.

“Didn’t you grow up in Paris?” Amélie replied, indignantly. “How could I get you lost? Isn’t it your job to know the city like the back of your hand?”

“You’re driving,” Gérard replied, as though that was the answer to everything. “You’re going to want to take the next left.”

“If you’re worried, why didn’t _you_ get in the driver’s seat?” Amélie asked. Gérard knew how to drive, if he wanted them not to get lost, he should have been driving.

Gérard shrugged, although Amélie was looking at the road, not him. “It’s your car.”

“We could have taken your car,” Amélie replied. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

“You say that now, but I haven’t gotten the heater fixed yet,” Gérard replied simply.

Amélie nodded then carefully pulled the car into a parking space in front of a small bakery nestled in between a bookstore and an antiques shop. “You drive,” she told Gérard. “I’m…”

“Lost?” Gérard offered with a chuckle.

“I smell bread! And cake!” Lena called from the back seat as she stretched and yawned. “I thought we were going to McDonald’s?” She looked out the window for a moment and then happily said, “There’s a bomber jacket in the window of that store, Amélie I want that. Can I get it?”

Amélie stopped whatever argument she was about to make to Gérard about how she absolutely wasn’t lost, she just didn’t know where she was going. “Lena?”

Lena looked at Amélie, and frowned slightly. “You look like someone just killed your dog, luv. Did something happen?” After a second of thought about the way Amélie had said her name it hit her. “Did… did we have a fight?”

“You… you don’t remember?” Amélie asked quietly. That was odd, even if her theory that Lena’s anger had been a side effect of her meds was correct, Lena still should have remembered their fight.

Lena shook her head. “Remember what? I remember you saying something about McDonald’s and then I woke up here. Was… was McDonald’s just part of a dream? Is the bakery where we’re really having lunch?”

Amélie frowned for a moment and then said, “We had an argument, about the difference in our ages.”

“Because you’re older than me? Was I the angry one?” Lena asked. “Did… did I say something that I might regret?”

“You really don’t remember any of the fight?” Amélie asked, choosing not to answer Lena’s questions yet.

“I really don’t,” Lena replied, “was it bad?”

“You got mad at me for telling you that it doesn’t matter to me that you’re younger than I am,” Amélie replied. “I was trying to tell you that I do care.”

“Did I say something I would regret?” Lena asked insistently. “Please Amélie, tell me the truth.”

Amélie started to reply with the more reassuring lie that she had not. _“I want you to not lie to me.” “I don’t lie to you, Lena.”_ The words from part of their argument ran through Amélie’s mind then, and instead of lying, she told the truth. “You said something about how you couldn’t get a crush properly, how it made you feel like just a dumb kid because you dared think you could have a crush on a woman you ‘already knew’ would never return the favor.”

Lena’s eyes went wide. “Fuck.”

“Even before that, I knew you have a crush on me, Lena,” Amélie offered. “I know you think I’d never return the favor because I’m married, but chérie, you’re wrong. I don’t like telling you you’re wrong about something because I prefer when you come to your own conclusions, but you’re wrong on this one. I _can_ return the favor. I’m not straight, Lena. If I was, I never would have let you kiss me in the pub that night.”

“But you’re _married_ ,” Lena insisted. “Even a nice guy like Gérard wouldn’t want his wife to find someone else that she loves. That’s cheating. No one is okay with cheating. It’s bad, it’s stupid, god I—I started this. It’s my fault.”

“Ah,” Gérard spoke for the first time since Lena woke up, “you’re wrong on that too, Lena. Try to relax, Lena, you haven’t done anything wrong, I promise. I love my wife, but we are an _open_ relationship, there’s no cheating involved as long as we keep talking to each other. We mostly only got officially married for the tax benefits. It was fun, I will say that, and being married is really very nice. But at the time, it was the tax benefits that really made us decide to do it. It was also the only way my landlord would let me put Amélie’s name on my lease even though she lives there for more than half the year anyway.”

“An… open relationship?” Lena asked, of all the parts to Gérard’s statement, that was the one she didn’t understand. “What’s an open relationship? What’s that got to do with me? Why does that mean there’s no cheating?”

“In the simplest terms, Lena,” Gérard said, “it means that I’m okay with Amélie having other partners, girlfriends or boyfriends… or ones without genders, whatever, as long as she talks to me about them first and they’re _also_ okay knowing that she has a husband.”

“It works in reverse as well,” Amélie offered, “in fact, you haven’t met him yet but Gérard has a boyfriend.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Lena asked.

“I am, because Gérard talked to me about it first, there was no sneaking around, or secrecy. It was an honest and open conversation, and we agreed that… there are some things Gérard wants that I just cannot give him.”

“Gérard likes men?” Lena asked, of course, Gérard having a boyfriend should have made that obvious.

“We’re both bisexual, Lena, it’s not very complicated,” Amélie replied.

“No, I mean… I thought… it’s just…” Lena was trying very hard not to insult Amélie by asking really stupid questions, but she was sure that’s what was going to happen anyway.

“What Lena?” Amélie asked.

“Aren’t you trans? What does he want that you can’t give him?” Sometimes it was probably better to be blunt. Other times it was probably better to not say anything at all.

Amélie blushed hotly. “ _My god_ , Lena, you… you can’t be serious right?”

“I don’t understand. Did I say something bad?” Lena frowned slightly. She had tried really hard not to insult Amélie, and now she felt like she’d definitely done that.

“No, Lena,” Amélie replied. “You’re not saying bad things, I’m just not sure what part of me being trans confuses you in this case.”

“Gérard likes men… so doesn’t he like… can’t he get that…” Lena frowned more. “I don’t know how to ask, how to explain it, without insulting you or accidentally saying something… insulting.” She bit her lip.

Amélie nodded slightly. “You’re confused.”

“I am.”

“It has nothing to do with parts, Lena, that’s not what he wants that I can’t give him,” Amélie added. “There are some things cis men can do that I just can’t. Especially for Gérard.”

“I’m confused more now.”

“I’m also trans, Lena,” Gérard finally said. “Amélie and I want to have a child, but while Amélie… theoretically _can_ do that, it’s incredibly difficult for her. We seek alternatives. A cis man, in theory, would be better at it. My boyfriend agreed to help me try.”

“Oh,” Lena replied dumbly. “Amélie can’t have kids because of her hormones, right?”

“Right, well… mostly right. She can, but it is highly unlikely,” Gérard replied.

“But you can have kids, even though your hormones…”

“I’m not transitioning, Lena,” Gérard replied again, “not like that. I had top surgery, I got away with not having it questioned due to a family predisposition toward breast cancer, but I don’t plan on taking my transition any further than that.”

“Does that mean your coworkers…” Lena began.

“Think I’m a woman, yes.” Gérard replied.

“Does that get hard?”

“Very, but I deal with it.”

“So why don’t you just adopt,” Lena finally asked. Surely if two people wanted kids that badly, then they could just adopt. “I mean, it’s not like they could keep you from doing it even if they don’t recognize your true genders, like… you’re still a man and a woman, no matter how people choose to look at it. And, you’re married.”

Amélie bit her lip slightly. “That’s… that’s the thing, Lena,” she said, “it’s what I suggested, but it’s not what Gérard wants.”

“I want the whole experience,” Gérard replied. “To raise a child of my own blood. We can adopt the child’s siblings, but I want one that’s mine.”

“So why not do the science thing then?” Lena replied. “Like uhh… that science thing, you know?”

“Science thing?” Amélie asked.

“You know… like… uhh… they make a baby baby by combining your dna and his dna and then a surrogate carries the baby, but in this case, he _is_ the surrogate,” Lena explained and then added, “That’s how my little brother was born.”

Amélie started to reply about how they hadn’t considered that option because they forgot it was a thing when she realized what Lena had added at the end. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad thought I was ‘lonely’ as a kid, they thought it was why I ‘lashed out’ so much and broke like all the rules,” Lena replied. “But my mom couldn’t have anymore kids after me; she was quote the doctor ‘lucky to have survived’ having me. So they found a surrogate to carry the baby and let science combine mum’s egg with dad’s sperm, and now I have a brother, who is like… everything they ever wanted in a kid.”

There was a moment of silence while Amélie and Gérard considered this, and then Amélie just said quietly, “Lena, do you really, truly remember nothing of our argument?”

“Nothing, it must have been bad though,” Lena replied, “for me to have admitted to thinking that you could never like me back, it must have been really bad. What did you say that started it?”

“Why do you assume it was something I said?” Amélie replied.

“You were shocked that she’s ‘only’ 23,” Gérard offered.

Lena nodded. “I wish you hadn’t been, or hadn’t said it like that if you actually weren’t,” she said. “It makes me feel like such a child when people do that shite to me. Twenty-three is so young, but I’m an adult. I have… I try to pretend like I have my life all figured out, and I do. I just… I had some bad breaks, I got kicked out of what I thought would be the answer to everything, because I wasn’t… because the world isn’t ready for a hero like me.”

“A hero like you?” Amélie asked.

Gérard thought for a moment, then said, “Lena Oxton, age: withheld, rank: withheld. Pilot in training, RAF squadron assignment: withheld. Outspoken. Gifted. Talented. Troublemaker. Dishonorably discharged, reason: insubordination.” He nodded solemnly and then added, “We were told to keep an eye out for this pilot should she attempt to cross international borders to get her flight certification renewed.”

“Why the hell would an anti-domestic terrorism agency need to keep an eye out for a pilot—”

“Insubordination is a bit harsh,” Lena replied, interrupting Amélie. “It’s a long story.”

“’A bit harsh’,” Gérard said. “From what I heard you threatened your commanding officer.”

“He threatened me first,” Lena argued. “He raped his secretary, the pilot who was training me, _and_ one of the engineers working with our squad. He deserved a fucking bullet in ‘is head. I didn’t say _anything_ that wasn’t true. He should have been the one with a dishonorable discharge not me. Fucking wanker, next time it won’t be _just_ a threat, I’ll kick his arse and make him wish he’d never heard the name Lena Oxton.”

“You threatened to kill your CO, Lena, that falls a bit beyond simple insubordination,” Gérard said.

“Yeah and he threatened to rape me, so what? He’s the fucking criminal, he’s the monster, all I did was tell _his_ CO what he’d done, but of course it was my word against his and no one wants to listen to the bloody newbie even if she did see it happen.” Lena balled up her fists in anger and then took a deep breath. “His secretary lives near my mum and dad, that’s why I have to go see my parents Amélie, that’s why I need to go back. I have to make sure she’s okay.”

“Telling me you want to see your parents, that’s… that’s the only part of the argument you remember?” Amélie asked. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Lena said. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m lucky, I guess, if I hadn’t been hit with that insubordination discharge, he probably would’ve made good on his threat.” She took a deep breath, and then another, and finally said, “Why were you so shocked that I’m only 23?”

“Because your birthday is next week and I already ordered the cake, and I need to tell the bakery to change the number in the phrase on it from 27 to 24,” Amélie replied a bit guiltily. “I… I made you feel so bad, started a fight, because of a cake. I’m sorry, chérie, I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Lena nodded. “I feel so young compared to you, you’re so mature, and grown up. I’m just… me. I don’t have my life figured out nearly as much as I say I do. I can’t hold a job because I… I never learned how to shut up when I see something bad happening. Don’t feel bad about accidently making me upset over a cake, I probably didn’t even let you explain yourself. I… know it’s a problem. Getting into arguments, being irrationally irritated at things and not remembering how or why. I know it’s a problem, if I could fix it, I would in a heartbeat.”

“Actually, Lena, I think I know what’s wrong,” Amélie offered. “Please don’t get mad, but I think it’s because of your medicines.”

Lena frowned slightly and then said, “It could be, but…”

“But you _know_ you’re not supposed to be taking one of them,” Amélie replied.

“I know it looks bad, luv, but I actually do need it,” Lena insisted.

“From what I’ve seen of you, on it, it doesn’t do much for you,” Amélie said, “There are other medicines to treat what you have, if you’d just talk to Dr. Zeigler I’m sure she’d help you find the right one.”

“But what if she like… tells.”

“Dr. Zeigler would _never_ violate confidentiality like that,” Gérard said, “she’d be offended that you’d even suggest she might.”

“Yeah but like… the law,” Lena said, “I kind of broke it.”

“Dr. Zeigler would not break confidentiality, just because you made a choice to do something less than legal,” Gérard replied. “Doesn’t she know about your graffiti?”

“She does, she also knows that I’m homeless, and have a tendency toward thievery,” Lena replied. “She offered me a job at her office.”

“And why didn’t you accept it?” Amélie asked.

“I’m scared to work for my doctor, and I don’t want to have to find a new one,” Lena replied.

“What do you want to do with your life Lena?”

“It might sound dumb, but I want to be a superhero to some little kid out there,” Lena replied. “Not like in a mum kinda way, no, like, I want some kid to be able to come up to me one day and tell them I’m a hero to them.”

“But what will you do to make yourself that hero?” Amélie asked.

“I’m going to make a video game,” Lena replied. “Or a comic book.”

“You could do both,” Gérard offered. “Do you have some sample of your work?”

“Not at the moment,” Lena replied. “Where are we going for lunch? I… there’s an art supply store right there.” She pointed past Gérard to a small store next to the bakery. “And I still want the bomber jacket in the window of that store, Amélie. Can we do a little more shopping before lunch. I know… all of  this is a lot, and we need to talk _a lot,_ but there’s some things I need to do. Amélie… do you know anyone that knows how to write stories?”

“I might know some people who’d probably be willing to help,” Amélie replied. “Let’s go to the stores and see what we can find, and I’ll ask Satya and Olivia if they’d be willing to help. What exactly do you need written?”

“I have the basic parts of the stories, I just need the stories to be… better,” Lena said. “I could explain a lot better if I had my notebooks but I left them at your London flat.” She stretched and yawned slightly, then put her hand on door. “Some of them are superhero stories, but a few more are… one’s a sci-fi romance, and another is a story about a pilot. There’s one set in the future about a girl who can control time. I want help actually writing the stories out, so I can make some prototype comics for them.”

“I’m sure I can find someone to help with that,” Amélie said as she got out of the car. “Come on now, we can get you that bomber jacket if it’s your size. And I’m fairly certain that’s a bookstore not an art store.”

“Looks like an art store to me,” Lena said she pushed open the car door. “Okay, so I was wrong,” she admitted as she stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk and could now clearly see the small shop next to the bakery was actually a bookstore, not an art supply store, it just happened to have art supplies in the window next to some of the books. “That’s not an art supply store, but it’ll have the basic things I need right now.”

“Which would be?” Amélie pried.

“Pencils and a sketchbook,” Lena replied. “Gérard asked for a sample of my work, I’m going to give it to him.”

“You don’t have to draw for me,” Gérard said. “I believe that you’re a good artist.”

“Believing is one thing, but seeing is another,” Lena replied. “I believe that you’re a good driver, but I’ve yet to see proof.”

“I drove us to those stores earlier,” Gérard protested.

“I have yet to see proof,” Lena replied again. “Believing is one thing.”

Gérard frowned but Amélie was chuckling.

“Are you feeling better, Lena?” Amélie asked. She certainly hoped that, whatever the truth behind Lena’s earlier bout of anger, it had passed. It was a small hope that maybe Lena would just completely forget all the parts of their argument, even the ones Amélie had explained to her about, but it was a hope nonetheless. Amélie was highly disappointed in herself about the argument and the revelation that it had began because of a misunderstanding over her shock at the reveal of Lena’s age. Sure it was true that she had been actually shocked to find out that Lena was so much younger than her, but it wasn’t because she felt in any way that it made Lena too young or childish or anything. She often had people who thought she was younger than she was, this just kind of was the opposite. In her opinion, it almost should have been a compliment.

Almost, and perhaps that was part of the problem. It was easy for Amélie to forget that being thought older than one actually is, isn’t always a good thing. Lena was, in most ways, pretty immature for her age. The day they had first met, Lena had been introduced herself in quite a grand way.


	6. London: Drunken Sailor - Part 1

 

**Two Years Ago**

Lena had a great number of things on her mind after she’d left work that day. One of which was the sadly true fact that she wouldn’t be returning there anymore. She was lucky, she guessed, that they had at least gave her her paycheck for the time she’d worked for them. It wasn’t much, but she was glad for it. At least she’d be able to afford food for a bit, hopefully she could find something else in the meantime.

One particularly interesting thought that preoccupied her mind, was the words of her former boss, _“You’ll never get your life together if you can’t focus for more than two minutes. You’re a hazard to yourself and the other employees.”_ She hated how true the words were, but in her own defense, they’d hired her as a stocker even though she applied as a cashier. As a cashier, she would only need to focus for as long as it took to ring the order, which usually was less than five minutes.

She frowned to herself as she ducked into the alley near her favorite bookstore, not that she could ever afford to actually buy any books, nor did she have somewhere to keep them, but the store had good coffee. Down this alley, to the right, and then a left. There were other steps, she liked to skip over remembering them consciously and instead chose to just go by instinct. The path led to an overturned dumpster behind an old building that hadn’t seen much use in a while.

The dumpster was actually incredibly clean, for a dumpster. Lena had spent a long time making sure of that. She used the dumpster as a pseudo-home. She crawled into it from the front that used to be the top, and on the inside she kept a blanket and a pillow. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Everything else she needed she kept in her bookbag, or in the little box in the corner of the dumpster. She had a flashlight to light up the place, and a water bottle. There was also an old dirty mattress on the ‘floor’ of the dumpster. All in all, it wasn’t too bad of a place to sleep. It was usually pretty dry unless it rained so much that it started to flood the area.

She sighed as she sat on the bed, waiting for an idea of what to do next to come to her. There weren’t a lot of places left that she could go, and it was getting a bit late. She sighed and crawled out of the dumpster again, carrying with her her backpack and the idea that she needed a drink. There was an old pub fairly close to her dumpster home and that’s where she was comfortable going.

The bartender, Andra, knew her by sight and sound. When she came in and sat down she asked her a simple question, “You get fired again, kid?”

Lena didn’t acknowledge her question with anything other than a nod.

“So you’ll be having the usual?” she asked.

Lena shrugged. It wasn’t like she actually liked any of the drinks, most of them made her feel really sick, but still it was better than nothing.

“If you want to talk about it, kid,” Andra said, “I’m here.”

“Why do you let me drink?” Lena asked.

“You pay your bill and are legally old enough.” It was a simple answer and truthful. “You’re not like some of the bozos that come in here and try to run up a tab large enough to pay off my America cousin’s college debt.”

“And if I said that I don’t want to drink?”

“I’d ask if you want to try Bruiser’s new ‘improved’ Shepard’s pie,” Andra replied.

“What’s so ‘improved’ about it?” Lena asked, intrigued.

“He grew the potatoes himself, well, his family did on their farm,” Andra replied, “claims they taste better than store bought.” She shrugged. “A potato is a potato if you ask me, but I’m telling everyone to try it anyway. He wants opinions.”

“What do you recommend?” Lena asked. There weren’t a whole lot of people in the pub that night, which usually meant that Andra would be experimenting with the drinks for anyone willing to be a guinea pig.

“The French Dancer,” Andra replied.

“What’s in that one?” Lena asked assuming it was a drink because that’s what she was asking recommendations for.

“Well, you, if you try hard enough,” Andra replied with a chuckle.

“What?”

“She’s a person, not a drink,” Andra replied quietly. Then after a moment of consideration added, “She probably could be a drink, I have some blueberry wine. I bet that would taste good with some champagne.”

“Who’s a French dancer?” Lena asked.

“The pretty woman over there,” Andra replied, motioning toward a beautiful brown-haired woman sitting at a table talking to Bruiser.

“Really?” Lena asked. “She doesn’t look very French.”

Andra laughed. “Here, luv, I’m gonna let you be the first to try the French Dancer. I’ll be right back, just got to find the right stuff for it.”

Lena frowned slightly, but waited patiently for Andra to return. When Andra came back with a glass, two bottles, some ice and some fruit, Lena asked, “Am I going to have to pay for this?”

“For you, it’s free,” Andra replied. “Only because I think you actually have a shot with the pretty woman, and you need a confidence booster.” There was a pause and then Andra added, “Also because if it makes you sick I don’t think you should have to pay for it. Which, it might make you sick.” She put a couple ice cubes in the glass.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Lena replied. “So… the French Dancer… what’s in it?”

“Okay, this is a bottle of blueberry wine, I’m not sure if it’s actually made of blueberries or just tastes like it,” Andra said as she filled the glass about half way with the wine. “I have a couple slices of a strawberry, and a couple whole blueberries. For flavor. And this is some fancy—I think—champagne that I ordered a few bottles of in case someone wants a fancy drink on their birthday.” She added ingredients as she listed them, and then handed the glass to Lena. “I won’t get mad if you end up throwing up on the counter. Just… try not to die, okay?”

“If you really think it’s going to be dangerous, why do you keep experimenting?” Lena asked as she took a swallow of the drink.

“If you actually believe my anxiety, why do you keep drinking them?” Andra countered.

Lena chuckled. “You’re the closest thing I have to a friend since Emily went off to university.”

“That’s kind of sad, where’s she going anyway?” Andra asked.

“I think Oxford,” Lena replied. “I don’t know, I didn’t find out about it until she was already gone. Her mum said that she had tried to find me to tell me goodbye, but she couldn’t. Said Em was really upset about not being able to locate me. Claims Em has a crush on me. Can you believe that? Em and I’ve been friends since we were tiny tots. I think I’d know if she had a crush on me.”

Andra sighed. “Lena, you’re the same oblivious Lesbian who thought that the Russian here for the Olympics* was just being friendly.”

Lena blushed hotly. “In my defense,” she protested, “I couldn’t understand what she was asking because I don’t know Russian slang.”

“That was _English_ slang, from closer to Wales,” Andra said, “The Russian told me she picked it up from one of the British track runners.”

“Well,” Lena said as she took another drink from the glass. “I’m not dead, and this actually tastes kinda good.”

“You feel any more confident?” Andra asked.

“Babe, I’m always confident,” Lena replied.

“Good, because she’s heading this way,” Andra replied quietly as she moved to cleaning the counter.

“Fuck,” Lena whispered quietly but with passion. “I’m not ready for this.”

“Come on, miss ‘I’m always confident’,” Andra whispered. “Get it together. Drink more of your drink.”

Lena nodded and then downed the rest of her drink.

“Whoa maybe not like that,” Andra said, “if you throw up on the bar because of your own stupidity, then you’re going to be washing dishes for a week to make it up to me.”

“Can I sleep in your break room if I do?” Lena whispered.

“’Course luv, I’ll even have Bruiser make you dinner,” Andra replied.

“Your husband really is an amazing cook,” Lena said. She pushed the cup away from her as the pretty brunette sat down next to her.

“You’re not about to hide that wine away, are you?” the brunette asked Andra.

Andra chuckled. “Absolutely not, if you’re going to buy some then I won’t.”

“I’ll take a glass,” the woman replied, then she turned her head and looked at Lena. “Ah, you look like you need a nap.”

Lena groaned and put her head on the counter. Of course the woman would point out that she wasn’t looking her best right now. It didn’t help that the incident that had gotten her fired, should have landed her with worker’s comp instead, but lucky her she didn’t actually get injured by all those falling boxes and crates. Pillows were good for that.

“Is she okay?” the woman asked Andra.

“She’s fine,” Andra replied. “You’re a beautiful woman.”  She poured a glass of wine for the woman.

“I’m not sure what one has to do with the other,” the woman said. She was indeed a beautiful woman and Lena should have been perfectly capable of functioning around her.

“You know, I don’t think you told me your name,” Andra said. That was dodging the statement, hoping to give Lena some time to recover her senses so she could actually talk to the beautiful woman.

“My name is Amélie, Amélie Lacroix,” the woman replied.

“You’re a dancer, right?” Andra asked.

“Oui,” Amélie replied.

Amélie took a sip of the wine, and smirked slightly when she noticed that Lena had turned her head and was looking at her.

Lena however, wasn’t actually looking at Amélie, she was looking at the man that had come up behind Amélie. Trying, in her way, to determine what he wanted. She sat straight up on her stool when the man reached out his hand and groped Amélie’s ass as he leaned over to say something to her. “Oi, wanker, hands off my girl or I’ll knock your teeth in,” she snapped.

“Yeah?” the man said, taking a step back and putting his hands up in a fighting stance. “I dare you to try, kid.”

Lena started to stand up, ready to kick some ass. She didn’t actually care that she’d get kicked out of the pub for this, the wanker had it coming. But before she got all the way up, Amélie swung around and stood up. At her full height, she easily overshadowed the rather short man.

“I’m taking bets, since you like to make dares,” Amélie said. “Twenty-five euros says I can kick your ass with my hands tied behind my back. A lot of ballet is legwork after all. I’m quite talented with kicks.”

The man glared between Amélie and Lena then decided he was better off not testing his luck when the fight would be two against one. “Whatever, I don’t want to hit a girl no way,” he said and then walked away.

Amélie turned back around to sit down again and noticed that Lena was staring at her like she was some kind of superhero. “Yes?”

“You’re so bloody cool,” Lena said, “I don’t know if I want to bed you or wed you.”

“God, Lena no wonder you can’t get a girlfriend, your pickup lines are lame as—”

“You’re serious aren’t you, la fillette?”

“Absolutely, you’re the most beautiful woman in the pub, no offense Andra,” Lena replied.

“None taken,” Andra replied.

“Well, I don’t have any plans,” Amélie said, “And you are pretty cute. I could use some company tonight.”

Lena grinned stupidly. “All right, luv. Let’s go.”

Amélie chuckled. “You’re impatient, Cherie, perhaps if you wait a bit the night will last a bit longer?”

“Lena doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘patience’,” Andra chuckled.

Lena turned back around to the bar and made a huffy face at Andra. “If you blow my chances I’m never trying your experimental drinks again.”

Andra fake pouted. “You must think very little of your chances if you believe I could ruin them.”

Lena pouted, but didn’t reply as Amélie sat back down next to her.

“Tell me, Cherie, why do you think I would offer you my bed?” Amélie asked.

“Because I… I… uhh… well obviously I said something you liked,” Lena replied.

“You’re cute,” Amélie said, “it’s because you’re a good person.”

Lena blinked then grabbed Amélie’s hand gently. “How do you know that?”

Amélie chuckled. “You’re too cute to be a bad person.” Then she lowered her voice to nearly a whisper and added, “You stood up for me. Not a lot of people would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section is going to be at least three parts, most likely exactly three parts but it might be 4, and they will continue exactly where the previous one left off.
> 
> *not meant to be indicative of a time period/year this story takes place


	7. London: Drunken Sailor - Part 2

Lena nodded slightly and hopped up off her stool without really saying anything in response to that. She got Amélie to follow mostly by insistently pulling on her hand. Amélie was chuckling and followed along as Lena led her past some of the tables and into the hallway that led to the restrooms, from there Lena pulled her into the women’s restroom and locked the door behind them. She turned to Amélie who was now leaning against the wall opposite the door smirking slightly.

“You,” Lena said, “are probably the most beautiful person I have ever met.”

“Are you still—”

“You called me a good person, no one does that,” Lena interrupted. “That just adds to your beauty. Luv, you’re one in a million.”

Amélie nodded. “I see. You sound like you want something.”

“Yes,” Lena said. “But… is it okay if I just take it?”

Amélie chuckled. “You’re _asking_ if you can _take_ something from me?”

“Well… I mean, it’d be a crime if I didn’t ask, even if you were actually okay with it,” Lena mumbled. “Please?”

“God, you are adorable,” Amélie said. “What do you want to take from me? You can have it.”

Lena grinned and stepped forward. She leaned up, stretching as much as she could, and gently placed a kiss on Amélie’s lips. Then pulled away in confusion when Amélie started chuckling. “What? Does it tickle?”

“No, it’s just… when you said you wanted to take something, I thought you were talking about like, pickpocketing.”

Lena fake pouted. “I’m a good person, and you were gonna let me what… steal your wallet?”

“Sure, why not,” Amélie replied laughing. “I don’t always entertain random thoughts that enter my head, and that one was hilarious.”

Lena grinned. “Did you really think I meant that?” she asked as she leaned up for another kiss and then pouted. “Alright, you’re too tall, you’re gonna have to help me out here.”

Amélie grinned. “How long are you wanting to monopolize this restroom?”

“Long enough to convince you,” Lena replied.

“To convince me of what? That you’re _needy_?” Amélie mused. “That you’re so incredibly cute that I have no choice but to do this—” she stepped forward for a moment and put her hands under Lena’s arms then lifted her up off the ground. “Wrap your legs around my waist unless you want me to pin you to the wall.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind that,” Lena replied, blushing hotly.

Amélie smirked. “You really are impatient.”

Lena chuckled and wrapped her legs around Amélie’s hips and her arms around Amélie’s neck. “You’re impatient too,” she said. “So kiss me.”

Amélie grinned and moved her hands to cradling Lena by the butt as she leaned back against the wall. “Why don’t you kiss me instead?”

Lena chuckled and kissed Amélie, lightly at first. Amélie’s mouth tasted like the blueberry wine and homemade soup. It was such a weird combination but Lena didn’t mind. It made it all feel so intimate to her. Like maybe it was something she could get used to. She bit back the thought though as she pushed a little, adding her tongue to the kiss. Even if she could get used to it, she really shouldn’t. Not for a woman she likely would never see again after this night.

Amélie kissed her back. That made things much more interesting to Lena, she’d only had one girl kiss her back before and that was Emily, and she wasn’t even sure that had counted because they’d both been drunk at Emily’s birthday party.

Amélie pulled back for a brief moment and then smiled. “You look like you’re thinking really hard about this. Was that your first kiss?”

“No,” Lena replied. “Not exactly. I mean, it was my first time being kissed by someone who’s literally holding me by the butt.”

Amélie chuckled and squeezed Lena’s butt gently. “It is a nice little butt.”

“Yeah, little,” Lena said. “You’ve got a nicer butt.”

Amélie laughed.

“You’ve got some other nice parts too, I bet. Your mouth and brain are pretty nice,” Lena said.

“I’ve got tricks up my sleeves,” Amélie said.

“Oh?” Lena asked. “Are your hands that magical?”

“My hands, among other things,” Amélie replied.

“I’m not too drunk to understand,” Lena said. “You’re hinting at something you think is going to make me change my mind about wanting to sleep with you. It won’t. I’m a lesbian not an arsehole.”

Amélie blinked and the smiled slightly. “You’re a good person, but you don’t have to do things you don’t want just because you don’t want me to think badly of you.”

“Luv, if I didn’t want to do things with you, I wouldn’t be straddling your hips in a pub restroom snoggin’ you against a wall. Trust me,” Lena said.

Amélie laughed, which Lena took to be a good sign.

“’Sides, luv,” Lena said, “just cause your parts are different than mine doesn’t mean you’re not still the most beautiful woman in the pub.”

“You know,” Amélie said, “I called you a good person, and I didn’t have a lot of evidence to back up that claim, but now I’m thinking it might actually be true and not just drunken chivalry.”

“Am I too drunk to have sex with you?”

“Are you?” Amélie asked. “I don’t know you, so I don’t know how drunk or not drunk you might be.”

“Drunk enough to actually talk to you, but not too drunk to know what I’m saying,” Lena replied. “I… don’t think we should have sex even though I really really want to.”

“Because you’re drunk?” Amélie asked.

“Because you’re wearing a wedding ring. You’ve got a husband or wife, don’t you?” Lena replied.

“I do, but he would not mind, we have… an arrangement,” Amélie replied. “You are not too drunk to understand that I tell the truth when I say he would do no harm to you or me.”

“So… he doesn’t care if you have a one night stand with some girl you met in a pub?” Lena asked.

“Not as long as I am honest about it,” Amélie replied. “I see no reason to lie to him about this.”

“Would we still go back to your place even if we don’t have sex?” Lena asked.

“There’s plenty of other things we could do,” Amélie said. “You want company, but you seem to be a little frightened by the thought of actually having sex. Am I close?”

“It’s just… it would be my first time,” Lena said, “and while it’d be freakin grand to have it with someone like you, all nice and beautiful and so amazing, I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You wouldn’t disappoint me, but if you don’t want to do it, we won’t, simple as that,” Amélie said.

Lena nodded and then smiled. “I want to, I want to really badly. I feel like you’d make it something nice.”

“I would certainly try,” Amélie replied. “But again, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. We could just watch some stupid movie and get to know each other.”

“Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d get this far,” Lena replied. “Normally I flirt with a girl and they slap me because they think I’m a teenage boy or something. You’re not just out of my league, you’re a whole other sport.”

“Ballet isn’t a sport, it’s an art,” Amélie replied. “I’m pretty flexible. Are you so flexible?”

“I was a track runner, not a gymnast,” Lena replied. “But, I guess I’m pretty flexible. I can rock my hips pretty good, at least. My grandparents on my mum’s side have a farm and there’s horses there. So I guess you could say, I’m pretty good at ridin’ things.”

Amélie laughed. “Oh really now?”

Lena nodded and rocked her hips against Amélie’s hips in response, smirking when Amélie let out a little gasp at the friction of her leggings against Amélie’s skirt. “In school boys used to make fun of me for it, until they figured out that it could be a sexy thing. Then they got really mad because I said the only person in the whole school I’d ever consider dating was my best friend Emily.”

“What did Emily think of it?” Amélie asked.

“She asked me to teach her how to ride like I do,” Lena replied, “I invited her to my grandparent’s farm. She’s not good with horses, terrified of them actually.”

Amélie laughed. “I don’t think horses was what she had in mind.”

“Yeah, I realize that _now_ ,” Lena replied. “But that was when I was 16, and still kinda stupid about girls.”

“You’re smarter about girls now?” Amelie asked.

“Depends on who you ask,” Lena replied.  “I think so, but Andra doesn’t agree.”

“Show me what you want,” Amelie asked. “If you’re smart about girls, then you’ll know how to be in charge.”

“Am I not doing a good enough job being in charge right now?” Lena asked.

“Not particularly no,” Amelie replied. “Do you maybe like being told what to do?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never really tried either way,” Lena replied. “First time, you know.”

“Well what do you want me to do?” Amelie asked. “Your first time, you should be in charge.”

“I want… I want you to show me how it works,” Lena replied. “I want to know.”

“You are putting a lot on my shoulders, la fillette,” Amelie replied. “Do you know what you want? Can you put words to it? If you can’t, then you’re not sober enough, and I cannot in good conscious do anything with you other than maybe watch a movie.”

 Lena bit her lip and then said, quietly but with passion, “I want you to fuck me.”

Amelie nodded. “Quiet? Hesitation or… something else.”

“There’s someone outside the door,” Lena replied, almost immediately before there was a knock on it.

“Lena get out of the restroom and let other people have a chance to pee,” Andra called through the door. “I’m keeping it clear for a moment so you can both get out without being questioned, but you’re out of time. Get a room that’s not this one.”

“Okay, luv,” Lena called back.

“We’ll go back to my place,” Amelie said, “You’ve got a lot to learn tonight.”

“I think I’ll enjoy that,” Lena said. She placed one final gentle kiss on Amélie’s lips and then unhooked her legs from around Amélie’s hips, adding, “okay maybe put me down now.”

Amélie grinned and moved her hands, dropping Lena the couple of inches to the floor. She chuckled when Lena stared up at her. “You’re short, but not so short that that would have hurt you.”

“You know, if I look straight ahead, I’m staring at your chest,” Lena replied. It was true, their height difference was just the right amount with Amélie’s heels in consideration that if Lena looked straight ahead she was staring at Amélie’s boobs. Not that she minded the view, but she knew it was a little rude to stare at a woman’s chest.

“That’s a magnificent view, no?” Amélie replied with a chuckle.

“It’s a bit… distracting,” Lena joked. At least Amélie seemed to be really good natured about the whole thing.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Amélie asked. “Are you too distracted to walk?”

“To walk?” Lena asked. “Walk where?” She wasn’t sure it was possible to be too distracted to walk. Though if it was, staring at boobs was a good way to do it.

“Well first, out of the restroom,” Amélie replied, turning Lena around by her shoulders and pointing toward the door. “Then to my apartment.”

“Will your husband be there?” Lena asked as she headed toward the door. Even if Amélie was telling the truth about her husband not caring about his wife having a one night stand with a random girl from a pub, she wasn’t sure she wanted to meet him. Especially when she was the random girl from a pub.

“No, he lives and works in Paris,” Amélie replied. “He does not usually come with me on my trips to London. We trust each other, even if we miss each other during our time apart.”

“Are you famous?” Lena asked as she opened the door. Only famous people usually had enough money to have more than one place to live. She knew that as a fact.

“Depends on who you ask, I’d say,” Amélie replied. “Around here, maybe, I’m a rather sought after ballet teacher, though I only teach in the off season.”

“Ballet has an off season?” Lena asked.

“My company does, it only runs between the months of November and May,” Amélie replied.

Lena led them back through the pub, to the counter, where Andra shortly met them.

“Lena you don’t owe me anything for that drink, but Bruiser says if you’re not back here for dinner tomorrow, he’s going to hunt you down and drag you to our house for ‘a quality meal that’ll teach you to skip out on eating’ so I’d suggest coming back on time to avoid him figuring out where you live,” Andra said. “As for you, Amélie, your total comes up to… uhh…” she tapped on the screen of her cash register for a moment and then sighed, “god I forgot to put a price in the system for the wine glasses because no one ever orders the wine.”

“No one knows you sell it,” Lena offered.

“Yeah, whatever, let’s see, the soup you had is today’s special, so that’s only five euros,” Andra said.

“Since when do you take euros?” Lena asked.

“Since shut up I’m thinking,” Andra replied. “The wine only cost me 10 euros a bottle… so, two euros for a glass that size… Seven. Your total is seven euros.”

“That seems a bit cheap,” Amélie replied.

“Well, tax is included, and it’s my pub so I can charge whatever I want and I like you,” Andra replied. “Besides, you teach my niece ballet, I think… I’m pretty sure that’s where I’ve seen you before. So you get the educator’s discount. See the soup is actually seven euros a bowl, on special, before the discount.”

“Why such a steep discount for educators?” Amélie mused as she handed counted out the money to pay.

“Because I said so, that’s why,” Andra replied. “Teachers get enough crap, I don’t need to make their lives harder. If I can save them some money without going in the red, I will.”

“Amélie, don’t argue with Andra, you won’t win,” Lena said quietly. “It’s a waste of time, time that could be spent doing other things,” she added tracing lines with her fingers along Amélie’s thigh, right below the bottom of her skirt.

Amélie smiled and nodded. “That is admirable.” She reached down and grabbed Lena’s hand quickly. “If you know what’s good for you, chérie, you’ll stop that and be a patient good girl.”

Lena chuckled and Andra sighed, “When I said a room that’s not the restroom, Lena, I did _not_ mean the main room of the pub.”

Lena chuckled more as she reached over with her other hand to continue tracing lines on Amélie’s thigh.

“I’ve created a monster,” Andra said. “I never should have given her bubbly alcohol.”

“She is just frisky,” Amélie replied, “because she likes girls and thinks the chance will slip away if she doesn’t pursue it stubbornly. As you said, she does not know the meaning of the word _patience,_ ” she practically hissed the last word as she grabbed Lena’s other hand to keep her from pushing her skirt up any. “Chérie, you said you were not too drunk for this, but you’re sure not acting like your sober enough to make clear decisions.”

Lena dropped her hands away immediately. “I am _clearly_ choosing to try to tease you, and I am _clearly_ failing at it.”

“You are miserable at being in charge,” Amélie stated flatly. “Let me do the leading.”

“You’re the boss, are we going back to your place now?” Lena asked.

“Yes, and you’re going to learn several things, the first of which is how knots work,” Amélie replied.

Lena followed Amélie out of the pub silently, waiting until they were outside, and thus alone, before she said, “I’d rather not learn how knots work just yet.”

Amélie nodded. “Do you know what the knots would be for?”

“Tying me up, I’d guess,’ Lena replied. “I don’t want to be tied up during my first time.”

Amélie nodded and smiled. “That’s good,” she said. “That is what we call a limit. It’s good that you know some of them already. Do you know other things you don’t want, that’ll help me figure out what things to teach you.”

“I’d rather… I’d rather not get hurt,” Lena replied. “I want it to be something nice.”

“Tame,” Amélie replied. “Understandable, it is your first time. How do you feel about toys?”

“Emily had some nice ones,” Lena replied. “We never used them on me, but she _loved_ them. I think I could try some.”

Amélie blinked. “This girl let you use toys on her, and you _don’t_ think she had a crush on you?”

“You heard that?” Lena asked quietly.

“You are precious,” Amélie replied. “I have some toys, we can try them.”

“Will that be fun?” Lena asked. “What kind of toys?”

“I’d rather not discuss them in public,” Amélie replied. She pointed to a nearby building. “That’s where my apartment is, come on.”

Lena grinned slightly and followed close to Amélie’s side, happy that neither of them had to walk very far to get there, and really excited for what the night would hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make this section very fluffy and nice as a break from the usual mix of angst that the rest of the fic has. Despite Emily being talked about in this section, I haven't decided whether or not she'll actually come back into Lena's life at some point in this fic. If she does, it'd still be poly, just Lena would get two girlfriends instead of only Amelie or only Emily.


	8. London: Drunken Sailor - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get Steamy (pun intended). Beginning psa: if you object to the thought that Lena, a lesbian, could see Amelie, a trans woman, as a woman and be okay with having sex with her, you should probably stop reading this fic right here.

Amélie’s apartment, flat as Lena said it was supposed to be called, was a lot nicer than Lena had expected. She took her shoes off at the door, afraid of tracking dirt or anything like that across the nice carpet of Amélie’s flat. Amélie had also taken her shoes off at the door and Lena was  _almost_ disappointed that Amélie was actually not that much taller than her without them.

“Make yourself at home,” Amélie said. “You’re going to be learning a lot of things.”

“Yes boss,” Lena replied.

“First of which, is that I do not like being called boss,” Amélie replied. “We’re equals in this, Lena, even if I’m more experienced than you.”

“Sorry,” Lena replied. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, Lena,” Amélie replied. “That’s why they’re lessons.”

“What’s lesson number two?” Lena asked. She stared around the flat, it was actually kind of small despite how nice it was. It didn’t look like more than one person could live in it very comfortably.

“Lesson number two,” Amélie said, “is that when you’re in charge, you get to decide what happens next.”

Lena nodded and walked over to the shelf next to Amélie’s tv. She read the titles on some of the dvd cases and then noticed a box of dvds labeled with names, like people’s names. “What are these?”

“Porn,” Amélie replied.

“Are you in these?” Lena asked.

“Some of them,” Amélie replied. “They’re not for sale.”

“Did you get paid for it?” Lena asked.

“No,” Amélie replied. “Some of my friends and I, and my husband’s friends and him, sometimes make videos. For our own enjoyment, because a lot of the commercially available, or like porn-site available, stuff is… pretty fucked up in its treatment of people like me.”

“Can I watch them with you?” Lena asked.

Amélie stared at the dvds, seemingly concentrating on them for a moment and then said, “Maybe. If you see something in one of them that you like, we can try it together.”

Lena picked one of the dvds up. “What about this one?” It was labeled ‘Ophelia’ with a heart drawn beside the name.

“Not that one,” Amélie said quickly. “Ophelia is off limits.”

“Who is Ophelia?” Lena asked.

“That doesn’t matter to you,” Amélie said defensively. “Ophelia is off limits.”

“Okay, how about… this one?” Lena asked putting ‘Ophelia’ back and picking up one labeled ‘Gérard’ also a heart next to the name.

“I doubt you want to watch porn of my husband,” Amélie replied. “But we can, if you’d like.”

“How about you pick one?” Lena asked.

Amélie smiled slightly and picked up one labeled with ‘Eliza’ in big letters, and ‘Amélie’ under that in smaller letters. “I label the ones I’m in with my name on them too, so I’ll remember which ones have me.”

“You’d watch porn of yourself?” Lena asked.

“Why else would I make porn if not to watch it?” Amélie chuckled.

Lena nodded as Amélie walked away from the dvd shelf. Amélie didn’t head toward the tv though, she headed toward a door on the other side of the room. “Where are you going?”

“We’re not watching porn in here, we’re watching it in the bedroom,” Amélie replied. “Come on.”

Lena nodded and put ‘Gérard’ back down, grabbing up one that had only ‘Amélie’ listed on the dvd. She wondered what was so special about this one, that Amélie was the only name featured. After grabbing it, she followed Amélie to the bedroom. She stopped at the door, staring at Amélie’s bed with wonder. The bed was huge for such a tiny flat, and it looked so much more comfortable than her little mattress. It was almost easy for Lena to forget that most people did not live like herself, considering how many other homeless people she saw on a daily basis.

“It’s a soft bed,” Amélie said, noticing what Lena was staring at. She was already sitting on the bed, she patted the bad beside her. “Come, sit down on it. I’ll show you some things.”

Lena nodded and then stopped cold just a little ways inside the door. “Everything here is so clean… I should shower first, I just got off work right before I came to the pub, I’m probably kinda sweaty, dirty, and smelly.”

Amélie grinned. “Do you want to shower alone? Or can I join you?”

Lena considered that and then walked over, placing the dvd from her hand on the tv stand against the wall a short distance away from the foot of the bed. “I guess you can join me.”

“Do you like your showers cold, or steamy?” Amélie asked with a wink.

“Oh my god, and you claim  _I’m_  the needy one,” Lena replied. “Steamy, please.”

Amélie nodded and sat her dvd next to Lena’s then stood up. She walked over to another door, and opened it. “The bathroom is in here.”

“Your flat is so weird,” Lena said, even though she had no real idea what flats were supposed to look like, she’d gone from her parents house in the country to an RAF base, to the street. It wasn’t exactly like she had a lot of experience with flats.

“How so?” Amélie asked.

“It’s… bigger than it looks,” Lena said. She didn’t want Amélie to know about her situation. So she decided she should pretend like she knew what she was talking about and hope that she didn’t make an amateur mistake.

“Ah, that’s just how I decorated it,” Amélie replied. “I like smaller spaces, so if a place feels too big to me, I put bigger stuff in it, so it looks smaller.”

Lena nodded, that made sense, probably. If something was too big, you make it smaller somehow. She started to drop her backpack next to Amélie’s bed then frowned in disappointment when she realized she’d left it at the pub. Now she had no choice but to go back there tomorrow. Bruiser would be thrilled enough to possibly give her free lunch.

“You okay?” Amélie asked heading into the bathroom.

“Yeah, I just forgot my bag, at the pub,” Lena replied. “I’m not worried about anyone stealing from it, Andra wouldn’t let that happen, but it means I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“Trust me, with what we’re going to be doing, you won’t need clothes,” Amélie said.

Lena blushed hotly and nodded despite knowing that Amélie couldn’t see her. She headed into the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind her. “Everything is so clean.”

“Is your place not clean?” Amélie asked.

“It’s clean, just not like this,” Lena replied. “Do you do the cleaning yourself?”

“Yes,” Amélie replied. “I like cleaning.”

“Guess that’s the difference,” Lena said, “I don’t like cleaning.”

“Could be,” Amélie said, “attitude makes all the difference.”

Lena smiled and nodded. She’d been told that before, but that had been different, back then the saying was used to try to get her to be more… obedient and less talkative. She unzipped her hoodie and put it on the toilet seat. “Is it okay if I put my clothes here?” she asked. This whole time she’d yet to look at Amélie.

Amélie walked over and gently put her hand under Lena’s chin directing her attention to the clothes hamper sitting beside the sink. “Put them there, I’ll wash them when we’re done teaching you things, because you’re likely going to be way too tired to leave tonight.”

Lena nodded and moved her hoodie to the hamper. “You’re gonna wash my clothes?”

“I’m already going to be washing mine, it’s no big deal to add yours to the load,” Amélie replied.

Lena nodded and then started to take off her shirt. She paused midway, when she noticed in the mirror that Amélie was standing next to her, completely nude. Amélie had even taken out the ponytail she’d had her hair in before. She somehow looked even prettier with her hair down. That shouldn’t have been possible.  _Oh fuck she’s beautiful._

Amélie chuckled slightly and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Lena’s waist. “You’ll get used to the view,” she said, “but you’re free to change your mind about this at any point, and I’ll stop. We’ll stop. I won’t judge you for it or anything.”

Lena took a breath and then said, “I’m just trying to figure out how you got  _more beautiful_  just by letting your hair down.”

Amélie laughed and brought one of her hands up, gently pulling the elastic out of Lena’s hair, fluffing out the shoulder length hair Lena had been hiding in a small ponytail. “I think you’d look more beautiful with your hair down too.”

Lena shook her head, though she enjoyed the feeling of Amélie playing with her hair. “Nah, I look best with a pixie cut. I just haven’t… had time to get it done for a while.” She hated how long her hair was at the moment, that’s why she kept it in the ponytail.

“You look fine,” Amélie whispered as she kept playing with Lena’s hair. “You’re beautiful.”

Lena blushed and shook her head slightly. “I have all the beauty of a potato, but thank you.”

“Some potatoes are very pretty, you included,” Amélie replied.

 _God she’s pretty and nice. I’m too gay for this shit._  Lena bit her lip and nodded slightly.

Amélie moved from playing with Lena’s hair to caressing her cheek. “Are you ready for what we’re going to do? We have the whole night if you’d rather wait.”

Lena nodded again. “I’m still wearing clothes,” she said as though that was something she’d only just realized. Which it was.

“I see that,” Amélie replied, tracing her fingers up Lena’s stomach slowly pushing her shirt up as she did so. “Are you shy?”

“No, you’re just really _really_  pretty,” Lena replied. Honestly, she couldn’t believe that such a beautiful woman would be so gentle with her, or actually want to do anything with her at all. Part of her believed that there must be some kind of catch, but the rest of her couldn’t care less. She likely was never going to see this woman again, the least she could do was enjoy herself while she had the chance.

Amélie nodded and leaned over slightly, pressing her chin to the top of Lena’s hair. “You need a little help in the ‘talking to pretty girls’ area don’t you?” She smiled at Lena in the mirror as she pushed her shirt up a little more. “You’re going to be fine.”

Lena watched Amélie’s actions in the mirror intensely, there was something really special about this, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what. Having this beautiful woman to herself, even if only for a night, it was like a dream. “I’m going to be fine,” she repeated. “More than fine.”

Amélie chuckled. “You’ll be amazing.” In one swift, yet graceful, move she pulled Lena’s shirt up, over her head and dropped it into the hamper. Then she gasped.

Lena stared at herself in the mirror in confusion. What had Amélie seen? As far as she knew, she only had a few scars on her back and they were all from falling off her horse before learning how to get it to stay calm when the creek was higher than usual.

“Your bra has  _puppies_ on it,” Amélie gasped. “That is the cutest thing ever where did you get it?”

“Oh, it was a normal white bra, from… I forget where, I drew the puppies with some sharpies,” Lena replied. “Don’t worry, they won’t come off when you wash it.”

“Would you mind if I  _petted_  the puppies?” Amélie asked with a wink.

 _Fuck, she’s pretty, nice, and a nerd._  “Go right ahead, they’d love it.”

Amélie smiled and started gently running her fingers over the front of Lena’s bra. “Your bra is very soft. Is what’s under them also soft?”

“All boobs are soft and warm,” Lena replied. “All boobs are good boobs.”

Amélie laughed lightly. “God, you are precious.”

Lena chuckled then gasped when Amélie squeezed her breasts though the bra.

Amélie laughed a little more. “You’re very precious.” She slipped her hand under Lena’s bra.

Lena gasped as Amélie played with her breasts. She braced her arms against the sink as Amélie started running  her fingers over her nipples. She shivered slightly at the contact.

“Wow, you’re needy  _and_  sensitive,” Amélie said as she pulled her hands out from under the bra, gently moving Lena to stand up straight, and removed the bra from Lena carefully. She leaned over and whispered in Lena’s ear, “Your breasts are soft, and very pretty.”

“Yours are too,” Lena replied, sighing slightly as she leaned back against Amélie.

“Did you actually want to take a shower?” Amélie murmured. “Or are you stalling for time?”

“I actually want a shower,” Lena replied. “I’m gross.”

Amélie smiled and stepped back to give Lena some room to move. “You’re not gross,” she said. “You’re… well worked. Work-stained.”

“That’s… not a thing. I’m gross,” Lena said. “All sweaty and dirty and gross.”

“You’re not gross,” Amélie insisted. “Take your leggings off, we’ll shower. I’ll show you just how not gross you are.”

“Are you gonna wash me?” Lena asked, laughing, as she did what Amélie told her and removed her socks and leggings, revealing that under her leggings she wore boxers she’d grabbed from the boys section of a local store.

“You wear boxers?” Amélie asked as Lena started to take her boxers off.

“Huh? Yeah,” Lena replied stopping what she was doing for a moment. “They’re more comfortable than like, panties or boyshorts.”

“Boy shorts are… misleading in name,” Amélie said. “And they barely cover more than briefs.”

“I  _know_  it’s so annoying. Plus, boxers last longer. I… panties usually last like… three washes and then they’ve either got holes in them or stretched out so much I can’t fit them anymore,” Lena said.

Amélie smiled slightly. “I like that you’re so honest,” she said. “It’s helpful.”

Lena smiled. “Thank you.” She took off her boxers and dropped them in the hamper wondering what Amélie would say about her next.

Amélie looked her over a couple times, then stepped forward for a moment and poked her side, right above the tattoo Lena had on her left ribs, a small biplane and the words ‘Fly On, Tracer’ under it. “I can see why Andra would insist that you need to eat more,” she said, “but she’d probably say the same about me if she knew me.”

“I’m just naturally kinda skinny,” Lena protested.

“Me too,” Amélie replied. “It’s okay. I’m not judging you. I’m observing.”

“Observing?” Lena asked.

“All works of art must be observed carefully,” Amélie replied.

“Do you mean me or my tattoo?” Lena finally asked. “Cause that tattoo is…”

“Beautiful,” Amélie replied, gently running her fingers over Lena’s tattoo. “Who is Tracer?”

“Tracer is…” Lena stopped halfway through starting to tell Amélie that Tracer was her. Tracer  _was_  her, but it was her graffiti artist name, she couldn’t tell a random woman no matter how pretty she was, that she was Tracer. Tracer, though, was a name she’d adopted because “Tracer was the name of my great-grandfather’s plane during the second world war. Our family still owns the plane.”

“Can you fly it?” Amélie asked in fascination. “The plane, can you fly it?”

“’Course I can, what kind of pilot would I be if I couldn’t?” Lena replied.

“You’re a pilot?” Amélie replied.

“I… was,” Lena replied. “I don’t want to talk about that, I want to know what you meant by ‘I’ll show you just how not dirty you are’.”

Amélie grinned. “Telling would ruin the surprise.”

“Telling would allow me to consent or not,” Lena countered.

Amélie blinked and nodded. “That is very true. I meant that first I’ll help you clean, because cleaning is a lot more fun when you have a beautiful helper, like me, or like yourself, to help. And then, I’m going to eat you.”

“Eat… me?” Lena asked.

“Yes,” Amélie said, “I’ll… do you really not know what it means to ‘eat’ someone in a sexual context?”

“Emily taught me how to do things, not what they’re called,” Lena replied. “I… feel kind of stupid.”

“It’s okay, Lena, you’re okay,” Amélie replied gently. She ghosted her fingers down from Lena’s tattoo to her hip. “It’s okay. When I say I’m going to eat you, it means my mouth is going to be in places.” She ghosted her fingers to right above Lena’s pussy.

“Oh, I know  _how_  to eat someone,” Lena replied, taking Amélie’s hand and pulling it away from there gently, “if it means what I think you’re saying it means. I just didn’t know that’s what it was called, even though that… makes a lot of sense.”

Amélie smiled. “See, you’re not stupid, you’re fine.”

Lena nodded and looked toward the shower. “You’ll have to show me how it works, every shower’s different.”

Amélie brought Lena over to the shower, worked a little magic and turned it on. Lena would have paid more attention to how it actually worked, but she was busy wondering about words.

“Hey, what do you call your… thing,” she asked as she stepped into the shower with Amélie, who slid the glass door closed behind them. It seemed like such stupid question, like something she’d end up offending Amélie with that she’d almost wished she’d never thought to ask.

“My… thing,” Amélie asked. “You’re precious. You can call it whatever you want. ‘Cock’ is fine by me, or anything really.”

“But isn’t a cock a male chicken,” Lena asked. “You’re a girl, it should be different.”

“What do you call a female chicken then?” Amélie asked with a chuckle.

“A hen,” Lena replied.

“Call it that if you want,” Amélie said as she picked up a washcloth and bottle of bodywash. “You’re not allergic to perfumes, are you?”

“No, what’s that smell like?” Lena asked curiously. By the end of this shower she was probably going to smell nicer than she ever had before.

“Strawberries,” Amélie replied holding the bottle up so Lena could take a sniff.

Lena sniffed it and gasped. “It smells good enough to eat.”

“It’ll make  _you_  smell good enough to eat too,” Amélie chuckled. “You already smell good enough to eat, but this will make you smell even better.”

Lena nodded. She didn’t understand how Amélie could be so insistent that she already smelled good, especially since they hadn’t started cleaning yet. As far as she could remember, which wasn’t a good indication of anything—her memory was terrible—, she hadn’t washed properly in like three weeks or more. She was  _gross_. It wasn’t her fault though. The only time she got a chance to shower was when Andra and Bruiser would invite her over for food, which usually happened only if Andra knew a storm was coming.

Amélie put some of the bodywash on the washcloth and then worked it to a lather and started gently running it over Lena’s skin.

Lena sighed slightly at the feeling. Amélie was like some kind of magician, after washing the dirt off and letting the steamy water rinse away the soap, she would place a gentle kiss on the skin she’d just cleaned.

Amélie smiled against Lena’s shoulder. She ran the sudsy cloth across the top of Lena’s chest, smile changing to a smirk as Lena’s breath hitched in response. She kissed after the soap was gone and smiled, moving farther down her chest.

A shiver ran up Lena’s spine despite the heat of the water as Amélie lightly ran the soapy cloth over her left breast while peppering light kisses on the right one.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Amélie murmured against her skin. “To be the one receiving, instead of the one doing.”

Lena tried to reply, but instead just gasped as Amélie flicked her tongue across her nipple.

“You’re sensitive,” Amélie noted again.

Lena shivered. It was hard to differentiate the heat from the shower from the heat of what Amélie was doing to her, and she loved every second of it.

Amélie very carefully moved Lena to leaning against the side wall of the shower. “The last thing either of us want is you collapsing to the floor because your legs turned to jelly.”

Lena didn’t argue with that, she wasn’t sure she could. Heat rose in her core as Amélie returned her attention to licking and sucking on Lena’s breast, playing with the other with her fingers, having decided to drop the washcloth. She tried to stifle her whimpers though. Part of her was unsure that anyone would hear, and most of her sure Amélie’s neighbors would complain if she were too loud.

“You don’t need to be quiet,” Amélie chuckled as Lena whined when she stopped giving her breast attention with her tongue. “You can be as loud as you want, the neighbors have learned to ignore me, plus I paid extra to get the owner of the building to allow me to have the walls sound-proofed to a point, because of my ballet lessons.”

“You stopped,” Lena whined.

Amélie laughed. “I did. The rag has ran out of soap.”

“But you don’t  _need_  soap to do what you were doing,” Lena whined.

Amélie laughed more. “You really are needy. What if I asked you to do something for me? Would you do it?”

Lena looked at Amélie trying to figure out what she was implying. “Ask me, worst I can do is say ‘no’ right?”

Amélie nodded. “That’s true.” She smiled at Lena. “If I asked you a question, would you tell the truth?”

“Yes,” Lena replied.

“Does it bother you that I’m trans?” Amélie asked.

“No,” Lena replied without hesitation. “You’re you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re wonderful, and kind, and amazing, and nice, and gentle, and you’re like a dream come true.”

Amélie blushed. “That is probably the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s true,” Lena said with a smile.

Amélie smiled at Lena. “Okay, you are  _absolutely_  precious. Now, worst you could do is say no, would you wash me like I washed you?”

“Your chest… or elsewhere?” Lena asked. “Cause if you’re asking if I’d… is it still called ‘eating’ if it’s your… hen?”

“You’re so embarrassed trying to talk about it,” Amélie noted. “It’s not, and if you don’t want to you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything with it if the thought grosses you out.”

Lena put her hands on Amélie’s shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes. “I’m not grossed out, I’m… scared.”

“Scared?” Amélie asked. “It scares you?”

“I’m scared that… that it would hurt,” Lena said. “I’m… small, and you’re… not,” she continued. “I’m scared it’ll hurt or I’ll do it wrong and it’ll hurt you. I’ve never done this before, what if I’m so bad at it that I mess up really badly and someone gets hurt.” Lena started to say more, to add that she’d  _seen_  someone else do it before and it had hurt them really bad, but it didn’t seem a fair argument, that person—a  _friend_  of hers, had been  _forced_  and Amélie wasn’t  _forcing_  her to do anything. Arguing that point seemed to be unfair.

“First, don’t panic,” Amélie said straightening up and gently taking Lena’s hands in her own, “second, I’ll guide you through it as best I can. If you decide you don’t like it you can stop. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. So if you don’t want to do this, just say no. It’s okay.”

Lena took a deep breath and then said, “Will it hurt?”

“It shouldn’t,” Amélie replied, “If it does, you can stop. It’s okay.”

Lena nodded her head, shaking slightly. “You’ll be gentle with me?”

“Of course,” Amélie replied. “You said you wanted your first time to be something nice. I’ll be gentle. You absolutely don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do, so if you don’t want to do this, it’s okay.”

Lena nodded again. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s not you, or the thing, it’s… a while ago I saw something really bad happen, and it scares me to think about. You  _promise_  that I’ll be okay?”

“I promise,” Amélie said gently. “You’ll be fine, nothing bad will happen to you. You’re safe with me.”

Lena smiled slightly. “I’m safe with you. So… show me what to do. Help me. I want… I want to do this for you. It doesn’t feel fair if you do so much for me and I don’t do anything for you. Show me what to do, just… don’t be mad if I’m a little… slow.”

“I’d rather you be slow than rush yourself and end up making a mistake,” Amélie replied. She squeezed Lena’s hands gently then let them go. “You’ll be okay, I promise.” She moved her hands up to Lena’s face and gently caressed her cheek. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered as she placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I promise.”

Lena nodded kissing Amélie back lightly, then smiling. “I’m at your command.”

“Ah, chérie, again,” Amélie said, “we are equals.”

“Teach me what to do,” Lena replied, letting herself slide down the wall a bit until she was on her knees. “Teach me.”

Amélie took a small step back to give Lena proper room. “You’re… actually going to do this?”

“Did you ask expecting that I would say no?” Lena replied.

“Well… yes, actually,” Amélie replied. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“But you asked anyway,” Lena said, “do you want it?”

Amélie nodded. “I do,” she said. “But I can’t teach you how to do it.”

“I believe in you,” Lena said. “You can teach me this.”

Amélie bit her lip and shook her head. “I really can’t, Lena. Not like you want. I can give you some basic advice. First, start with your hand.”

Lena nodded and very gently reached out, taking Amélie’s hen in her hand. “Oh, it’s soft.”

Amélie chuckled. “Were you expecting…”

“Well people talk about how they get ‘hard’ I wasn’t expecting… soft,” Lena replied self-consciously. She ran her hand over Amélie’s hen gently, smiling when Amélie gasped. At first, she only used her hand, slowly rubbing Amélie’s hen up and down the shaft, until it was very stiff. “It’s harder now,” she mused, “but still soft. And so warm.”

She took a breath, telling herself that it wouldn’t hurt, that it would be okay, and then she moved her face closer and flicked her tongue out, licking the tip. Amélie’s gasp encouraged Lena as she continued, still moving her hand along the shaft as she licked the tip. After a moment, she opened her mouth a bit and put her mouth over Amélie’s hen. She took Amélie in a little at a time. Slowly working her in, and out, first taking nothing more than the tip Amélie’s gasps and light moans encouraging her. She worked her way down the shaft, swirling her tongue around it as she went.

After getting about half of her in, she hesitated feeling her gag reflex starting to kick up. For a moment, she tried to keep going but it was too much she could feel the back of her throat start trying to close up and that niggling cough like feeling start to form, and then she stopped. As much as she wanted to do this for Amélie, she knew if she started gagging reflexively, it would hurt. She pulled away and looked up at Amélie, hand still on the shaft. “I’m sorry luv, I… can’t… my gag reflex is a bit sensitive.”

“You did great,” Amélie replied. “You don’t have to go further than you did. You don’t have to put it in your mouth at all if you’d rather not. You can just keep doing what you were doing before. With your hand and tongue. It’s okay. You were doing wonderfully.”

“You’re so bloody nice,” Lena said quietly. She went back to rubbing Amélie’s hen with her hand. Then she smiled and peppered kisses over it. “You know, it doesn’t taste bad. I don’t know what I was expecting. But it doesn’t taste bad.”

“You seem to have a lot of misconceptions about this,” Amélie noted and then moaned slightly as Lena flicked her tongue over the tip again.

“I’m… inexperienced,” Lena replied. “I promise I’m not trying to be like, bigoted or transphobic or anything.”

“It was an observation not an accusation,” Amélie said. “And you’re not being any of those things.”

Lena started to lick Amélie again but a hand on her head caused her to pause and look up. “Want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Amélie replied. “You’re doing great, but I don’t… I don’t want you to go too far. All of this? Is foreplay. Getting us ready for more… involved stuff.”

“Am I so good that I might make you cum?” Lena asked with a chuckle. “Emily used to complain about that, that I was so good she couldn’t last very long. So I always made her cum more than once.”

“Did you not let her touch you? Or did she just never ask?” Amélie replied. “You’re really good at all of this to be… ‘inexperienced’.”

“I was always scared of my parents findin’ out, so we always did it at her place, and I didn’t let her do things to me because I was afraid,” Lena said. “I didn’t know if my parents would be able to tell, so I thought it best if I didn’t… if we didn’t do things to me.”

Amélie nodded and smiled slightly as she motioned for Lena to stand up again.

Lena smiled and stood up. “This is nice,” she said. “I haven’t talked about Emily in a long time, at least not with anyone other than Andra and she’s already heard all the things.”

Amélie nodded and placed a kiss on Lena’s shoulder. “I like that you’re trusting me with these things,” she murmured. “You’re a rare kind of person, Lena.”

“How so?” Lena asked.

“You’re honest and trusting,” Amélie said. “That’s rare. It’s attractive.”

Lena started to reply but shivered instead when Amélie pulled away.

“We have to be quick about this now,” Amélie said with a sigh. “We’re going to run out of hot water if we don’t.” She took a bottle of shampoo off the shelf where she’d gotten the body wash from. “I’ll wash your hair if you’d like.”

“I love having my hair played with so, yes please,” Lena replied, taking up the rag and the body wash and starting to clean Amélie the way she’d been cleaning her before getting all steamy about it.

“This will sound like a stupid question,” Amélie said as she put some shampoo on Lena’s hair. “But do you regularly go to the pub trying to pick up a girl?”

“No, do you? I go to the pub to drink,” Lena replied. “Picking up a girl is like… once in a lifetime.”

“I’m glad I got to be that ‘once’,” Amélie said as she began lathering up the shampoo in Lena’s hair gently. “You’re a once in a lifetime kind of woman. It’d be a shame if we didn’t get to meet again after this night.”

“Come back to Andra’s pub sometime, you’ll probably find me there,” Lena replied. “It’s like my second home. Andra, she’s my cousin. Like literally my cousin, my dad’s older sister’s kid. I’m sure she’d appreciate you as a repeat customer.”

“You’re adorable,” Amélie whispered. “I’ll come find you again sometime.”

Lena sighed contentedly as Amélie massaged the shampoo through her hair, then rinsed it out. “Do you do this with all the pretty girls you find in pubs?”

“Only the really special ones,” Amélie replied. “I usually don’t go looking for women in pubs, or bars. Women can sometimes be… more violent than men when they realize what I am. I try to avoid it if possible.”

“Is that why you keep asking me if I have a problem with what you are?” Lena asked.

“Yes,” Amélie replied. “Despite you saying that you’re fine with it, part of me keeps expecting that ‘got you’ moment where you decide you’re really not.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Lena asked.

“It used to, then I stopped talking to strangers in pubs or bars, or really most public spaces,” Amélie replied. “Then I met Ophelia.”

“You said she was off limits,” Lena noted watching Amélie carefully as Amélie started washing her own hair. She moved her ministrations of cleaning to her own legs and arms.

“They,” Amélie corrected. “They  _are_  off limits. I promised them that much in return for all they’ve done for me.”

“Who are they?” Lena asked.

“Ophelia is something of a protector,” Amélie replied. “They’re… it’s complicated.”

“Ophelia means a lot to you,” Lena noted. “You care so much about them.”

“You care the same about Emily,” Amélie replied.

“Emily’s different, she’s my best friend, the first person who ever told me it was okay to like girls,” Lena replied.

“She’s also the first person you ever fucked,” Amélie said.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Lena said, “but yes.”

“We each have our special people,” Amélie said. “Ophelia taught me most everything I know about… well about life.”

“If I’m allowed to ask, why are they off limits?” Lena asked.

“Privacy,” Amélie replied. “Ophelia is very outspoken and active, they cause  _a lot_  of problems for  _a lot_  of people. People want them dead. Ophelia isn’t even their name. It’s what they asked me to call them. Gérard has a different name for them. Everyone in our friend group does. It’s to keep them safe. A lot of us would be dead without them protecting us. We protect them in turn.”

“If we keep contact after tonight, do you think I could meet Ophelia some day?” Lena asked.

“Perhaps, I will suggest it to them,” Amélie replied, “but ultimately that would be their choice not mine.”

After a brief moment more of just watching Amélie wash herself while letting the still warm water rinse away the soap from her, Lena finally asked the most important question she could think of, “if you’re going to put your hen inside me… you have condoms right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia = nonbinary = they/them pronouns, Ophelia is a "mother" by adoption, and acts kind of as a mother hen to Amelie and Gerard's friend group. They're the mom friend. They're also the friend who would literally kill a person to protect someone they love.
> 
> Eliza = cis female = she was Amelie's first girlfriend, their breakup was mutual and very very civil--the two of them simply decided that it wasn't going to work out in the long term. They're still friends with benefits, best friends too, just not romantically involved. 
> 
> Ophelia will be in later chapters. 
> 
> Most everything passively mentioned in this chapter will be relevant to the fic later on, or is already relevant. 
> 
> There's at least one more part of this section after this (after all, Amelie didn't make good on her promise to eat Lena in this one), and there will be more "flashback" sections later in the story as I see fit. 
> 
> Thank you for coming to my tedtalk about this chapter.


	9. London: Drunken Sailor - Part 4

Amélie stared at Lena in confusion. “Is… is that something you want? You know there are other ways to have sex.”

“I know,” Lena replied. “And there’s probably a hundred different ways I could make you scream my name. I… want to try this. I want to know how it feels. If you don’t want it, we won’t do it.”

“Do… do you like men?” Amélie asked.

“You’re not a man,” Lena replied fiercely, protectively. “No, I don’t. But you’re _not a man._ I know your anxiety keeps telling you that I’m going to change my mind about you, but I’m _not._ You’re the one who said that I get to pick the things we do. I want to try that.”

Amélie closed the short distance between herself and Lena and kissed her fiercely.

Lena moaned slightly into the kiss. She hadn’t been expecting that reaction to her words, but she didn’t mind it. Even as fiercely as Amélie had kissed her, it wasn’t unpleasant. For the first time in years, she felt like someone actually wanted her. Lena moaned more as Amélie groped at her breasts.

For a moment, Amélie just kissed her, ignoring that the water was beginning to grow cold. Then Amélie moved, kissing the edge of her lips. Amélie kissed down, paying special attention to the nape of Lena’s neck, sucking a little bruise onto it and nipping it slightly with her teeth.

_God,_ Lena thought as heat rising inside her immediately being quelled by the cooling water of the shower, _is this how I made Emily feel? No wonder she let me do it so often. It’s wonderful._

She kissed down the center of Lena’s chest, hands moving to Lena’s thighs, holding her steady. Dropping to her knees, she lingered right above Lena’s pussy, placing several kisses and then whispering quietly, “I appreciate that you shave down here.” She moved her hands to Lena’s inner thighs, spreading her legs slightly. “It’s not necessary, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“It _is_ necessary,” Lena replied breathlessly. “You wouldn’t understand how gross that hair can get because you don’t get periods, but trust me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Amélie replied, but didn’t elaborate as she moved instead to peppering kisses up Lena’s left thigh, and then her right.

Lena shivered, in part because of the coolness of the water against her hot skin, and in part in anticipation of what Amélie was going to do. She gasped when Amélie drew a finger over her slit carefully.

“You know,” Amélie said, “there’s about a hundred ways I could make _you_ scream _my_ name.”

Lena blushed hotly, as Amélie chuckled. Lena gasped when Amélie followed her finger’s motions with her tongue.

“Tell me, Lena,” Amélie said, breath hot against Lena, not bothering to move away. “What was always your favorite part of doing this to Emily?”

“That’s a bit personal,” Lena replied, “but probably the way she’d hold me after we stopped. Like I was the whole world and she’d disappear if she let me go.”

“Personal is subjective when I’m eating you out,” Amélie replied, swiping her tongue over Lena’s slit again. “But it’s interesting to know that the after-care was your favorite part.”

Lena gasped and stifled a moan. “Why is that interesting?”

“I would have taken you for a woman who liked having someone moan her name,” Amélie replied pressing her finger to Lena’s clit for a second before swiping her tongue over it.

“ _Oh god_ ,” Lena moaned.

“Aha, so you _do_ know how to let yourself feel things,” Amélie chuckled. She nipped her teeth on Lena’s clit gently.

Lena’s breath hitched in her throat as she moaned in pleasure. The feeling growing inside her wasn’t at all unfamiliar, just because she’d never let Emily do anything to her doesn’t mean she’d never touched herself, but it was _much more pleasant_ when someone else was the reason for it.

For a few moments, Lena happily let Amélie eat her. The feeling was so great, but she was getting a bit… wiggly. She moaned as Amélie’s tongue flicked over her clit, as Amélie’s fingers worked themselves over and over, but not inside, her slit. _God_ , it was like heaven. The closer she got, the more intense the feeling, the more she _couldn’t stand it._ “ _Stop_ ,” her intent, she thought, would be lost in the moaned way the word came out.

She half expected that Amélie would mistake her meaning and keep going. So it was to her simultaneous surprise, happiness, and displeasure, that Amélie stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Amélie asked. “Is it too much?”

“I… my… uhh…” She frowned cutely as her words failed to accomplish what she needed them to. “My knees feel like jelly,” was the only thing she managed to actually say.

Amélie pulled away and stood up. “Well, we can’t have that,” she said quietly. She placed a gentle kiss on Lena’s cheek. “You sure it wasn’t too much?”

“It was amazing,” Lena replied after a moment. “You’re amazing. I just… I think I need to be lying down for this.”

“Your legs aren’t very strong, are they?” Amélie asked as she held her fingers under the water, letting the shower clean them off.

“They used to be a lot stronger, but I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, or really done much actual exercise in a while,” Lena replied self-consciously. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Amélie replied. “Not everyone has the ability or… would privilege be a better word there? I’m not sure, English is not my first language. Not everyone can exercise daily.”

“You speak English like a natural though,” Lena replied. “It’s okay. Both words work as far as I’m aware.”

Amélie nodded and picked up the rag and body wash. “The water’s gone cold but we have a little bit more cleaning to do. I missed… your entire back.”

“Well I did have it against a wall for most of the time,” Lena chuckled. She was patient, despite her hatred of cold water, as Amélie took the time not only to wash her back, but to wash the back of her legs, and her inner thighs as well. “Do you want me to get your back?”

“Non, you can get out, wait for me on the bed, I _prefer_ cold showers,” Amélie said. “I appreciate the offer, and you helping me clean while I washed our hair, but I feel like you would benefit from a moment alone.” She placed a gentle kiss on Lena’s forehead. “Your hair is thicker than mine, you need the extra time so it can dry.”

Lena nodded and very carefully opened the door of the shower, stepping out and closing it quickly but gently behind her. For a second, she stood there shivering slightly as she adjusted to the cool air, before she grabbed one of the many towels on Amélie’s towel rack and started drying herself off. She winced slightly as she tried to dry her hair with the towel.

This was why she’d never liked showers as a kid. Hair was, in her opinion, the stupidest thing to take care of. Her parents didn’t know, as far as she was aware, but she’d taught her little brother how to use a hair dryer _specifically_ so he would dry her hair for her. Andra reveled in being allowed to take care of her hair, because in Andra’s own words she’d ‘never done it properly’.

After her hair was as dry as she could possibly get it with just a towel, she dropped the towel into the hamper and left the bathroom. She hadn’t quite paid attention to how soft the carpet in Amélie’s bedroom was until she walked across it barefoot. _Are all flats this nice?_ She sat down on the edge of Amélie’s bed, where Amélie had been sitting before the shower and stared at the two dvds sitting on the tv stand.

It would have been so easy for her to pick one of them and start watching it, but she didn’t.

_She makes porn with her friends just because she can_. _How do I measure up to someone like her? She’s so beautiful, and successful, and pretty, and nice. And I’m just… me. I didn’t even finish my first year at university before I gave up. I live in a fucking dumpster. I’m no match for her, I’m not good enough for her. But for one night… that’s probably all I’m good for though, just one night. For one night, one, someone wants me._

“Are you okay?” Amélie’s voice pulled Lena from her thoughts quickly. “You’re staring at those dvds pretty intensely.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I was just thinking about whether or not I actually want to watch them,” Lena lied.

“You don’t have to, you know,” Amélie replied. “You seem to have some solid ideas about what you do and don’t like.”

“I don’t like feeling like I’m going to collapse on the floor because my legs are jelly,” Lena said, “I like how you make me feel. I like when you moan because of what I do to you. I like cuddling and…” _I like feeling like someone wants me._

“And?”

“I like being called a good girl,” Lena said quietly. “When I do things I’m told to do, and I do them nice enough that I get praised for it. I like that, _a lot._ ”

“You like being called a good girl?” Amélie asked.

“Very much,” Lena replied. “Emily used to call me that, _a lot_ , whenever I’d do something really well. She had some other names for me too. Other things she’d say.”

“Oh?” Amélie said, “Would it be too personal if I asked what they were?”

“It’s a bit weird to think about, since I was always the one doing, but she was… always in charge,” Lena said, “I liked that about her. She was so certain, so sure of what she wanted done, and how to do it. She’d guide me, and praise me when I got it all right. She called me her pet, I liked that, I liked feeling… feeling like I belonged.”

“Would you like it if I called you ‘pet’?” Amélie asked. “You are rather like a little puppy, or kitten. Would you like being my puppy?”

Lena started to reply, started to say she’d love that, but something inside her kept telling her _just for one night, you’re not worth more than that._ After a moment, she decided, “That sounds a little… permanent.”

“And who said that this needed to be a temporary union?” Amélie asked.

“Isn’t that like, the definition of ‘one-night-stand’?” Lena asked.

“Perhaps, but I see no reason this couldn’t happen again,” Amélie said. “If you don’t object. You’re one of a kind, Lena.”

“It’s just a one night stand,” Lena replied. “That’s all I am. Some woman you picked up in a pub. That’s all I should be to you. You don’t know me. You don’t even know if you’ll ever see me again. I… I’m not worth seeking out again, trust me.”

Amélie sat down on the bed beside Lena. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in your life, I’m not sure that you would even want me to know. But whatever’s wrong, whatever it is you think makes you ‘unworthy’ of this attention, of this… friendship as it could be, I promise, you _are_ worth more than just a single night.”

Lena bit her lip slightly and shook her head. “I’m not, not at all,” she said, “I want this night. I want it so much. Let me have this. Let me have this single night. Then decide in the future if I’m truly worth more to you.” _I want… a friend. She could be that if I let her. No. A beautiful woman like her? She’d never be my friend. What kind of person would want to befriend a needy bratty lesbian like you, especially after one night of sex. That’s not how friends work._

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Amélie replied. “You need only ask.”

“Kiss me,” Lena said, “Kiss me, and hold me. Let me… let me be the reason for your smile, just for a little while.”

Amélie nodded and gently put a hand on Lena’s cheek, guiding her in looking somewhere other than the dvds. “Anything for you,” she whispered, as she placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Anything for you.”

Lena kissed back. It was unusual to her, to be expected to be the one to take initiative. Emily didn’t like when she tried to take charge, Emily wanted things and wanted them in a specific way. Lena had learned how Emily worked, and then and then she never learned how herself works. She had thought that being guided, being told what to do, was best for her. She hesitated.

It was at first, a fleeting thought, _what if… what if I just, touched… would she get mad?_ Then it was an action. She reached out with her left hand, and gently started caressing Amélie’s side. Amélie shivered slightly in response and Lena smiled against the kiss, which caused Amélie to smile too.

“You’re so cute,” Lena whispered. “Everything about you, is cute.”

“Everything?” Amélie asked.

“Everything,” Lena replied.

“Your arms,” she said, caressing them gently.

“Your sides,” she added switching to caressing them.

“Your chest.” She caressed Amélie’s chest gently then placed a kiss on the center of it.

“Your tummy.” She moved herself off the bed carefully and knelt on the floor in front of Amélie, gently tracing a line over her abs and kissing right above her belly button.

“Your legs.” She ghosted her fingers along the inside of Amélie’s thighs.

“Your hen.” She carefully started stroking it. She flicked her tongue over it slowly, deliberately taking her time with the action. Amélie gasped slightly, which encouraged Lena to go a little more. Her tongue and hands worked gently, slowly teasing Amélie. She knew she could, in fact, ‘eat’ (even though she knew it wasn’t called that) Amélie’s hen now, since she knew how far she could go before her gag reflex would make itself known. But she didn’t do that, she was teasing Amélie, and enjoying herself too much to take it too far.

“I have some cute parts too, don’t I?” she asked teasingly as she sat up, knowing from Amélie’s moans that she had pushed her close, but not close enough. “Would you show me what they are?” she continued as she moved back to sitting on the bed.

“You’re a tease,” Amélie said. “I can, but do you want me to? Or do you want me to show you some toys? I know you want me to use protection.” She was focusing, Lena could tell, like she was trying hard not to ask Lena to finish what she’d started.

Lena started to say that she could help with the protection and then she stopped midway through the thought, “I can… don’t know how to use a condom,” was what ended up coming out of her mouth.

Amélie bit back a chuckle. “That’s okay, I’ll show you.” She started to lean over and reach toward the table beside her bed.

“Do I need to know?” Lena asked quickly, causing Amélie to pause and look back at her. “I mean… uhh…”

“Are you scared of them?” Amélie asked with a chuckle.

“No!” Lena protested even though she was, in fact, afraid of them. “I just… hmm...” she couldn’t very well admit to being afraid of them, but there was no other reason she could think of not to want to touch one.

Amélie tilted her head in confusion. “Are you okay?”

Lena blinked a couple of times and then shook her head. “Maybe?” she said, “I have no idea what I mean by anything I just said. You don’t have to show me how they work as long as you know how they work. I don’t trust myself trying to help you with that. What if I broke it by accident?”

“I’ll get the condoms and I’ll use them, but this is a skill you should know,” Amélie said, “someday you might need to know this. I can also get the toys.”

Lena nodded and then put a hand on Amélie’s thigh. “We… if you really really think we’ll see each other again, as a good faith measure, I think you should save the toys. Something can be a good surprise for next time.”

“You trust me that much? To believe me when I say I think we’ll see each other again?” Amélie asked.

“I trust that no matter what I say about myself, you’ll ignore it and seek me out again if it’s what you really want,” Lena replied. “My wants aren’t the only important ones.”

“Your wants are important,” Amélie said.

“That’s not what I said, I said they’re not the _only_ important ones, your wants are important too,” Lena replied.

Amélie smiled slightly. “Let me get the condoms, I promise it’s not hard to use one.”

Lena nodded and waited as Amélie leaned over the bed to get a condom from the drawer of her bedside table. As Amélie stretched, Lena noticed for the first time that she was actually paying attention to that Amélie was pretty toned. “You’ve got muscles.”

“Everyone has muscles,” Amélie replied.

“No, like,” Lena said as she poked Amélie’s tummy with her finger. “You’ve got _muscles._ ”

“You like that? You like a strong lady?” Amélie asked as she sat back up with a condom in her hand. “Let me see your hand.”

“I love a strong lady. Women that could kick my arse? That’s fucking hot.” Lena nodded and held out her hand for Amélie. She blinked in confusion when Amélie dropped the condom packet in it. “What…”

“You need to tell me if you’re allergic to that,” Amélie replied.

“Latex?” Lena asked as she held the condom packet up to her face so she could read the tiny letters on it (even holding it so close, she still needed her glasses—which she didn’t have with her—the letters were all wiggly, like the books she tried to read tended to be, but she recognized an l and an x and assumed the word must be latex). “Or the fact that it expires next week? As far as I know I’m not allergic to latex, I used latex gloves when I worked fast food.” She didn’t feel like adding that she’d been mostly just the janitor, and it had only lasted two weeks.

“If it expires next week,” Amélie noted, “I’m going to need to buy new ones soon, but we can still use these.”

“You have to buy condoms?” Lena asked. “I thought that like… you could get them free.”

“Yes, you can just get them for free by asking your doctor,” Amélie said, “depending on your doctor. But these ones, are special.”

“Why?” Lena asked. As far as she knew, condoms were condoms, and there was no real difference between different _kinds_ of condoms except that some people are allergic to them. All condoms were scary condoms.

“Because I picked them,” Amélie replied.

Lena furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“These ones are unlubricated,” Amélie replied. “I have lube that tastes like blackberries.”

“What’s the point of that?” Lena asked. “I… you can’t eat lube?” The way she phrased it made it very clear that that was very much a question.

Amélie blinked. “You’re so innocent,” she half-whispered in awe. “I’m corrupting you.”

Lena laughed at that. “God, no. That’s something Emily usedta say about me. I’m not so innocent, just a bit… inexperienced. I thought you couldn’t eat lube cause it’s like… silicone.”

“Oh,” Amélie gasped. “No, mine’s water-based. You shouldn’t just like, eat it, or drink it or whatever, but you can get it in your mouth, even swallow it, and it won’t hurt you. It’s sugar-free too.”

“Ooh, that keeps you from getting sugar in… places,” Lena said with a smile. “There are some ways sugar should just… not enter your body.”

“You’re adorable,” Amélie said, “do you want to taste the lube?”

“Probably stupid question, but, why do we need the condom if you have lube?” Lena asked.

“Lube just makes sex easier and less likely to be painful,” Amélie replied, “the condom helps prevent stds and unwanted pregnancies.”

“Oh,” Lena said, “god now I kinda regret skipping health class.”

“From what I’ve heard about school health classes around here,” Amélie said, “you probably didn’t miss much. Whatever lesson they had on condoms and sex, it wasn’t anywhere near as helpful as I can be.”

“You know more than the teachers?” Lena asked skeptically. That wasn’t actually hard to believe, almost everyone knew more than the teachers about one thing or another. Emily knew more than their teachers about bridges and engines and computers. She, herself, knew more than the teachers about airplanes and horses and painting and running. It wasn’t hard to believe Amélie might know more than the teachers about sex, but they were _all_ adults so they should all know about sex. (A bad conclusion to come to since she was also an adult, but didn’t know a lot about sex, but they were adultier adults.)

“Most likely, though it’s possible depending on the teacher that I may just know more than the curriculum.”

“I think I would like to taste the lube,” Lena said, “then you can taste it yourself, in greater intimacy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said there'd only be like 3 or 4 parts to this, I underestimated how much smut I can write. 
> 
> Some things that have been decided since the last time I posted a chapter:
> 
>   1. Emily will appear in the fic and play an actual role in it, once she shows and the ball gets rolling, I'll add her to the actual tags 
>   2. A lot of problems in this fic could have been solved before they began if not for misunderstandings.
>   3. this includes Amelie's misunderstanding how old Lena is, which stems from English not being her first language
>   4. Lena's mentor from the RAF will also appear in the fic though her role is smaller (relatively). 
>   5. Lena has, in fact, already met Ophelia. Make of that what you will.
>   6. Lena is dyslexic, but thinks her troubles with reading is just that she can't see very well. Her statement to Amelie in a prior chapter that she doesn't need her glasses was a lie, she just doesn't want Amelie to feel bad for her about them being broken.
>   7. I actually do know how to write smut, but I don't know where to break chapters to make them not a bajillion words long once I get the ball rolling.
> 

> 
> There's going to be either 5 or 6 parts in all to this one flashback section. Just depends on how many words it takes to write the rest of the scene and then the scene that follows (the following morning). 
> 
> Thank y'all for reading this fic, sticking with it for so long. It means a lot to me.


	10. London: Drunken Sailor - Part 5

“Are you _asking_ me to eat you out?” Amélie asked. “Or telling me to?”

 _Would she get mad if I was telling her to do that?_ “Suggesting,” Lena replied. “I’m merely _suggesting_ that you do exactly that.”

Amélie chuckled. “You can make demands if you want,” she said gently. “I won’t hate you if you do.”

“I’d rather… I’d rather you make them, honestly,” Lena said quietly. “I have no real experience like this.”

“So if I told you to just lay back and let me take charge? You’d do that?” Amélie asked.

Lena nodded. “I would.” _It’d be so much easier._

“You’re not good at this whole ‘being in charge’ thing,” Amélie said.

“Maybe not,” Lena said, “You’re so much more confident than me.”

“Then tell me something,” Amélie said. “Do you understand what a safeword is?”

“That I know!” Lena chirped. “That’s a word you use to tell someone to stop doing something.”

“Yes, exactly,” Amélie said. “Do you have one?”

“Well… Yes, and no,” Lena said.

“Explain?” Amélie prompted.

“I have one,” Lena said, “but… it’s not…”

“Is it a safeword for a different situation?”

“Kind of, it’s what my… mentor… in the RAF told me to tell her when something was wrong,” Lena replied. “I don’t feel comfortable using that with you.”

“That’s okay, can you think of another?” Amélie asked.

“Colors are easy right? So like, it can be red for stop and green for go?” Lena asked.

Amélie smiled and kissed Lena’s cheek. “You’re really smart.”

“Thank you?” Lena replied as she toyed with the condom wrapper in her hand. “Why are we talking about safewords?”

“Because you need a way to tell me to stop if you’re not comfortable,” Amélie said. “You don’t want to be tied up, and you don’t want it to hurt, so you need a way to tell me to stop if it becomes unpleasant.”

“So, I need like ‘yellow’ too, to tell you to like, slow down or something. For when I don’t actually want you to stop, but it’s uncomfortable so we need to readjust or something?” Lena asked.

Amélie blinked and nodded. “Yes.”

“So are we going to fuck or…?”

“We’ve got all night,” Amélie said with a wink. “You haven’t opened the condom yet.”

Lena passed the condom over to Amélie. “You do it, I might break it by accident.”

Amelie handed the condom back to Lena and cupped her hands over Lena’s. “I’ll guide you.”

“Luv, why are you so insistent that I do this?” Lena asked.

“Why are you so insistent that you don’t?” Amelie countered.

Lena started to say something again about how she was inexperienced and didn’t want to hurt Amélie by accident but stopped because she knew it was a lie. She couldn’t admit to Amélie that she was _right_ and that she _was_ scared of the condom, because it felt like a stupid fear since she had no idea where it came from.

“Lena?” Amélie prompted, sounding very concerned at Lena’s hesitation to answer the question.

Lena bit her lip. She couldn’t tell Amélie the truth, what if Amélie thought it made her too immature and… young. What if it made Amélie change her mind about all of this? Lena wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

“Are you scared?” Amélie asked, very gently, running her thumbs over Lena’s hands as she did so.

“A little,” Lena replied.

“Of what we’re going to do?” Amélie asked.

“No,” Lena replied. “Just… scared… of… balloons.”

“Balloons?” Amélie asked her brow furrowed a bit in confusion. She didn’t seem to see the connection.

“I’m scared of balloons, and ducks, and the color ‘seafoam’, and condoms,” Lena said quickly, “And lemons. And my auntie Sarabell.”

“Okay, I probably didn’t need to know most of that,” Amélie said, “but why are you scared of condoms?”

“Cause they’re balloons,” Lena whispered.

“Condoms aren’t balloons.”

That statement was a fact Lena was aware of, but she was also aware of the boys in her secondary school that used to leave unwrapped condoms on girls’ desks to upset them and get them in trouble, and who used to fill condoms with water and jelly and mayonnaise and—if they were extra mean that day—hot sauce and throw them at people from the roof of the school building, in primary school they’d done the same thing with water balloons.

“I _know_ but they _are_ ,” Lena replied. _Yep, she’s definitely going to think I’m too immature for all of this._

Amélie paused for a moment, seeming to think about something. “That list, is that all the things you’re scared of? Or just some?”

“Just some,” Lena replied.

“Balloons?” Amélie asked.

“When I was little I accidentally swallowed one and had to go to the hospital,” Lena explained, “plus my auntie used to pop them next to me on purpose because she didn’t like that I didn’t like her angry mutt that kept trying to bite me and she knew popping balloons made me cry. There were bullies I went to school with that would fill up water balloons—later condoms—with gross stuff like mayonnaise and jelly and hot sauce and throw them off tall places at people walking by.”

“Ducks?” Amélie pressed.

“Ducks are terrifying, how are you _not_ scared of them?” Lena replied.

“Ok… Lemons?” Amélie asked.

“Sometimes you’re just… scared of something for no reason,” Lena said.

“Okay, so you’re scared of the condom because it reminds you of a balloon? Or is it because of the bullies that did stupid gross things with them or both?” Amélie asked. “I’m not going to ask about the color, because I know that feeling.”

“Both? Neither… I… I don’t know. Condoms are… condoms, but they’re balloons except they’re not and like they break and what if it comes off and gets stuck in something or like I accidentally swallow it like the balloon or like—”

Amélie moved her hand from Lena’s hand to Lena’s face quickly but gently. “Chérie, you’re chasing rabbits.”

Lena stopped dead in the middle of her rambling of fears. “Chasing rabbits?”

“Is… is that the wrong phrase? Like Alice… or Elmer Fudd. Chasing rabbits?” Amélie asked, blushing and stumbling over whatever she was actually trying to say.

“Going down a rabbit hole is what my gramma used to say it was,” Lena said.

“That’s the phrase!” Amélie replied excitedly before clearing her throat, blushing slightly at what she probably perceived as childish excitement. “I mean, that’s what I was trying to say. You’re going down a rabbit hole.”

“I like your phrase better,” Lena said. “Cause that’s what it feels like. Like I see these lil anxieties and then I start chasing them only to find that there’s more and more of them. Like chasing rabbits. And I know it’s futile, like the fight in Watership Down. But I keep doing it, and doing it, and doing it.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Amélie said. “I promise you the condom won’t come off without effort. It’s properly sized. You wouldn’t swallow it anyway, because you’re not going to be giving me a blow-job.”

 _“Is_ _that what those are?”_ Lena asked her voice clearly betraying a level of shock that shouldn’t have been capable from a person who went to public school, was in the airforce, and had a tumblr account.

“Yes?” Amélie said. “They’re called blow-jobs.”

“Why?” Lena asked. “You’re sucking not blowing.”

Amélie started to reply and then stopped short. “I-I don’t know.”

Lena took a breath and then said, “So, we’re both aware that condoms are not balloons.”

“Yes,” Amélie said, “we are.”

“Good,” Lena said. “I’ll… you’re still going to make me help you with the condom aren’t you?”

“It may help you to face the fear hands on,” Amélie replied, “but if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“You’re a good egg,” Lena said. “Can I… can I just kiss you? Do we even need…?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Amélie replied. “No question. If we don’t use it, we’re not having sex.”

“You won’t fuck me without the condom?” Lena asked.

“I absolutely won’t,” Amélie said. “I don’t fuck _anyone_ if I’m not wearing a condom. It’s… personal, it’s important to me.”

“Okay. And… you _promise_ its not going to come off?” Lena asked.

“I buy condoms that _fit_ ; condoms that fit do not come off easily,” Amélie said. She had a relieved smile on her face as she said that, almost like she thought Lena would say they wouldn’t have sex if she had to deal with the condom.

“We can use the condom,” Lena said, “if it’s so important to you. I just… please don’t make me touch it until after you put it on.”

Amélie nodded. “That’s fair.”

Lena looked away as Amélie took the condom and unwrapped it. Her fears, all of them, were stupid and unfounded, she thought, but at least this woman didn’t seem to think less of her for them. She was willing to let Amélie use the condom, because she wanted this. Amélie was willing to not make her touch it.

“I’m ready,” Amélie said, “whenever you are.”

“Oh but are you?” Lena asked looking back now and smiling slightly, teasingly. “I thought you were going to let me taste the lube?”

Amélie chuckled. “You’re cute. I like that.” She leaned back over the bed to get the lube from the same place she’d gotten her condom. “I promise it really does taste like blackberries.”

“You make a lot of promises,” Lena noted.

“I intend to keep all of them,” Amélie replied. “May I?”

“May you what?” Lena asked.

Amélie grinned slightly and gently put her hands on Lena’s shoulders. “May I—”

 _She’s so good and cute and amazing and confident and she’s made porn how do I do anything?_ “Can we watch the dvd I picked out—” Lena blurted out. “The one labeled with just your name? I wanna know what’s so special about it.”

Amélie blinked and took her hands off Lena’s shoulder. “That one is something Ophelia had me make. They labeled it with my name, because they get their friends who get into the group make a special video each on a topic of their picking. For me, mine’s a sort of beginner’s guide to BDSM. I don’t remember why they let me keep mine, usually they take the videos for themself.”

“BDSM? That’s that thing where you tie people up or like… hurt them, right?” Lena asked.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, and ropes don’t have to be involved at all,” Amélie said. “I don’t want us to watch that video until we’ve met for at least three times,” she added. “BDSM done well is a deeply personal thing, at least to me. I don’t feel comfortable setting up a true scene with you yet. We don’t know each other very well.”

“Okay,” Lena said. “Let’s get to know each other. My name is Lena Oxton. I like airplanes and drawing and that feeling you gave me when you had your mouth on me.”

Amélie chuckled. “It’s more complicated than just knowing a little bit about each other, we have to know each other, and know ourselves well.”

“I like kissing and that thing you did with your fingers and tongue on my clit. I like when you moan because of me. I like when you nipped my collar,” Lena said. “I like when you take charge. I like when you like what I do. I like when people call me a good girl. I like your smile. I _don’t_ like when people touch my back without asking. I _don’t_ like—” she stopped then. There were a few things she didn’t like that she wasn’t sure it was appropriate to tell Amélie, since she was sure Amélie wouldn’t do them.

“What else don’t you like?” Amélie asked. ‘I like that you’re telling me all this.”

“I don’t like when people kiss me when I’ve told them not to,” Lena said. “Or if they kiss me without asking. I don’t like getting hurt, or being scared. I don’t like being threatened.”

Amélie blinked and then took Lena’s hand gently. “Who threatened you?”

“That isn’t important or relevant,” Lena said. “It’s not your concern. Plus it was a long time ago. Please, I just want you to make me feel really really good.”

“Are you okay?” Amélie asked.

Lena nodded. “I’m okay. I want you.”

Amélie placed a hand gently on Lena’s shoulder. “I think you’re super cute,” she said. “Every bit of you.”

“All of me?”

“All of you,” Amélie said as she leaned over and gently kissed Lena’s cheek. “Every single piece of you.”

“Really?” Lena asked, was Amélie being serious or just teasing her the way she’d teased Amélie?

“Absolutely,” Amélie replied. “You’re cute as hell.”

Lena smiled. “Cute enough to eat?”

Amélie grinned and gently pushed Lena back onto the bed. “Absolutely.” She kissed Lena’s cheek and then her lips. After a moment of gently kissing, she ran her hands up Lena’s arms gently, moving them as she did so until she was holding them above Lena’s head. “Is this okay?”

“Green,” Lena said grinning, proud of herself for using her safewords properly.

Amélie chuckled and kissed Lena again. “I’m glad. Now, you just relax and enjoy yourself,” she whispered, sitting up for a moment. She opened the bottle of lube and put a little bit on her finger. Then she closed it back and rested it on the bed next to Lena’s leg. “Here, before we forget, a taste,” she said as she held her finger near Lena’s lips.

Lena smiled as Amélie kissed her. It felt nice, not having to pick, not having to tell anyone what to do. As much as she was loud and annoying in life, sometimes she liked being quiet and letting things just happen. It just felt right. Then when Amélie held the lube out for her, she smiled and licked the lube off Amélie’s finger. “ _Oh,_ ” she gasped, “it really _does_ taste like blackberries.”

Amélie smiled and kissed her again, then she took Lena’s arms again, making sure they were in the same place she’d left them. She kissed her cheek and then whispered as she let go, “Keep your arms still if you can. Grab the sheets or pillow if you need to.”

“Why?” Lena asked.

“I like it,” Amélie said, then there was a pause, “Okay, you don’t actually have to do that if you’re not comfortable with it. I just… I kind of like it when you… whoever I’m having sex with… _looks_ helpless. But, and a big but, I don’t want you to actually _feel_ helpless, so if you’d rather not keep your arms up there, you don’t have to.”

Lena considered this for a moment and then nodded. “I don’t feel helpless, I know I can tell you to stop and you will.”

Amélie smiled. “Keep your arms like this then, please?”

Lena nodded again. “Okay. But if they start getting sore, I can move them?”

“Yes,” Amélie replied still smiling. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. If you’re not comfortable then we’re doing this wrong.” She kissed Lena’s cheek again and then placed a gentle kiss on her lips before kissing down her neck while caressing Lena’s sides.

Lena’s breath hitched in her throat when Amélie’s kissing reached her chest. She curled her fingers into Amélie’s sheets, resisting the urge to reach out and thread them into Amélie’s hair, realizing for the first time that she’d never touched Amélie’s hair so she had no idea if it was as soft as it looked. No idea if Amélie would even let her touch her hair. She held back, moaning slightly as Amélie’s tongue flicked over her nipple briefly, only long enough to reignite the desire within her. To bring heat back to her body.

Amélie teased her gently and quickly. The chest was not the main focus of what Amélie wanted to do, and Lena was aware of this. She only whined a little when Amélie moved down, kissing a line down her stomach.

For a moment, Amélie stopped altogether, moving off the bed. Lena looked down at her, confused, and saw her standing at the foot of the bed seemingly contemplating something.

“Do you want to move further up on the bed?” Amélie asked after a moment.

“I’m fine for now,” Lena said, “Doesn’t this make it easier for you to reach the sweet stuff?”

Amélie blushed slightly and bit back something between a chuckle and a scoff. “The sweet stuff? That is adorable. But truthfully, either way is good for me, you lying back with your knees at the end of the bed and feet on the floor is kind of cute. You lying fully on the bed would be cute too.”

“What way would be _best?”_ Lena asked. “What position do you like most?”

“Honestly? Doggy style,” Amélie replied.

“Is that what it sounds like?” Lena asked. “Do I gotta pretend to be a dog?”

“No you just gotta be on your hands—or elbows—and knees,” Amélie replied. “That’s the position I like best. But I don’t want you to do that yet.”

“Why not?” Lena asked.

“It’ll be harder for you,” Amélie replied. “Your legs aren’t very strong,”

“Yeah, but my knees can’t collapse under me if they’re resting against the bed,” Lena argued, quite reasonably in her opinion.

“Let me work with you a bit in this position first, and then we might move to the other,” Amélie replied. “You look pretty comfortable and this way will be less messy with the lube.”

Lena nodded. “You’re amazing,” she said, “absolutely—” her words were cut off by her own gasp as Amélie kissed her thigh.

“Absolutely what?” Amélie teased as she kissed up toward Lena’s pussy. “You can tell me.”

“Absolutely divine,” Lena replied breathlessly as Amélie swiped her tongue over her slit.

Amélie chuckled and took the bottle of lube. She put a some on her fingers. “This might be a little… cold,” she warned.

“I can handle cold,” Lena replied.

Amélie nodded and gently worked her fingers over, but not inside, Lena, who shivered at the coolness of the lube.

“Why don’t you finger me?” Lena asked. “Like… are you wanting permission? Because you absolutely have permission to do that.”

Amélie laughed. “You’re precious, don’t worry I’ll get to that. Lube goes inside you too. But first, I’m going to taste you.”

Lena nodded and shivered again as Amélie went back to eating her. It felt _so good_ having Amélie’s tongue dancing over her. She moaned when Amélie’s fingers found their way to her clit and started gently rubbing circles over it, the lube making her even slicker than she already was.

Amélie swapped her fingers for her tongue, flicking it over her clit at first slowly, then more rapidly.

Heat rose inside her, and Lena’s breathing grew more and more erratic until Amélie pulled away from her completely, and stood up.

“You’re close,” Amélie noted.

Lena whined. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re cute as fuck,” Amélie said. “I need more lube, and then, after I’ve fingered you to spread the lube, I’ll fuck you. Let’s see you keep making those cute noises.”

“You could have just said ‘I stopped because I’m a mean ol’ tease,’” Lena whined with a smile and a slight chuckle.

Amélie laughed, “We’re both ‘mean ol’ teases.’” She applied a little more lube to her fingers and gently slid them along Lena’s slit before sliding one inside her carefully. “Let me know if it hurts in any way, okay?” she said as she did so.

Lena gasped and nodded. “It feels so nice,” she moaned.

Amélie smiled, she worked her finger in and out of Lena for a moment before adding a second. “How’s that?” she asked. “Still nice?” She hadn’t moved her face back down, she just watched Lena’s face intently.

 _Wonder what she’s looking for?_ “Better than _nice,_ ” Lena replied. This, now this was different than when she would play with herself. Amélie was like an expert or something, the way she teased her fingers around, almost like a dance. Lena moaned lightly, her moaning intensified with the feelings that Amélie was creating. She curled her own fingers into Amélie’s sheets as Amélie curled her fingers inside.

Lena’s breaths came out as whimpers as Amélie pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Amélie grinned and then moved her head back down. Lena barely even registered what Amélie might be trying to do before Amélie was already doing it. _“Fuck, yes,”_ she moaned as Amélie added her tongue to the mix, expertly licking and sucking at Lena’s clit as she fingered her. Lena’s moans intensified as Amélie worked her steadily.

Lena’s breathing quickened and with the intensities of the feelings until she came. Waves of pleasure washed over her, it was _intense_ , unlike anything she’d ever gotten out of herself before. Amélie eased her down from the high, slowing her movements but not stopping them completely. Once she was breathing more steadily, Amélie pulled her fingers out, licking away some but not all of the juices from her slit.

Amélie licked her fingers clean and stood up, leaning over Lena slightly and kissed her cheek. Then she kissed her lips, allowing Lena a moment to taste herself.

_Me and the lube, her mouth tastes really good. Is that weird? Am I weird that I think she tastes good when most of her taste is me?_

“Still nice?” Amelie asked after pulling away from the kiss.

 _“God,”_ Lena replied. “You’re like, a fucking goddess, pun intended.”

“Oh please,” Amélie said, “that pun was terrible and if I wasn’t so turned on right now, I’d make you wait an hour before I fuck you again.”

“You’d really do that?” Lena asked with a pout.

“Perhaps,” Amélie replied. “Probably not, you’re too cute to punish for one pun.”

“Aww, you think I’m cute,” Lena said “You’re cute too.”

“You’re a little more than cute,” Amélie replied. “If I’m completely honest with you, you’re beautiful.”

Lena gasped slightly. How long had it been since someone called her beautiful, and meant it? Too long, and now here she was, hearing that be said by probably the most beautiful woman on the planet. It was too much. “God, I think I’d marry you if I could.”

Amélie chuckled. “What happened to the ‘one night’ that you were so insistent upon this being?”

“That was before I understood how _nice_ this is,” Lena replied. “I don’t know when I’d find something like this again. I’m… not exactly likable on an average day.”

“Is this not an average day for you?” Amélie asked, her hands roaming over Lena’s body lightly. “Going to work, coming back without your job, getting drunk at your cousin’s pub? Is that not your average day?”

“When you say it like that it sounds really sad,” Lena said, “but I meant the having sex with a beautiful woman part. That’s not part of my average day. I’m… you know, I was _technically_ a virgin before we started.”

“I figured as much,” Amélie replied. “You did kind of already tell me that.”

“I did?” Lena asked shivering as Amélie’s hands found their way to her breasts and squeezed them gently. “Oh, that feels nice.”

“You told me this would be your first time,” Amélie said. “Wait… what do you mean ‘technically?’”

“I fucked Emily,” Lena said with a slight shrug, “but no one’s ever fucked me.”

“So… technically because you’ve done, but never been done?” Amélie asked.

“Technically because… well, because fucking myself doesn’t count,” Lena said.

“Masturbation is not the same thing as ‘fucking’,” Amélie said.

“Exactly, so, ‘technically’ because it doesn’t count,” Lena replied.


	11. London: Drunken Sailor - Part 6

“You’re adorable,” Amélie said, “but do you not remember telling me that this was your first time?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember half of what I say ever, I have memory issues,” Lena replied. “So… no, I don’t remember saying it, but I definitely believe you that I did.”

“When you… play… with yourself,” Amélie said, running her thumbs over Lena’s nipples gently, “do you use toys? Or just your fingers?”

“Just my fingers,” Lena replied. “I… okay one time it was… uhh… god I can’t say it.”

“What? It’s not like you used a banana, I have known people who’ve done that,” Amélie said after a pause she added, “Was it a banana?”

“No, it… you have to understand I was 15 and really  _really_  stupid,” Lena said.

“I understand,” Amélie said. “We were all stupid at 15.”

“It was a screwdriver,” Lena said. “I was really  _really_  stupid.”

Amélie blinked, her hands stilling for a moment. “How does that even… like those things you use to put together furniture? How?”

“Obviously you hold it backwards, and use the handle,” Lena explained. “It was not pleasant, and I only tried it once, and then decided that sex was a bad idea.”

“is that the only thing?” Amélie asked. “Because if it is, you were actually pretty smart.”

“I never tried with food if that’s what your implying, my parents woulda killed me if I messed around with the food while they were sleeping,” Lena said. “Yes, it was the only thing. I wanted to steal Emily’s toys but I thought she’d get mad at me. Bet I didn’t tell ya that her mum gave her those toys.”

“You did not… what’s her mom’s name?” Amélie asked.

“Not that it’s important to you,” Lena replied, “but her name is Jaqueline, and she’s not actually Emily’s real mum, she’s Emily’s auntie who adopted Emily after her parents died in a car wreck.”

Amélie nodded slightly and circled her thumbs over Lena’s nipples one more time. “How old was she?”

Lena shivered at the touch. “Jackie? She was 24 when she adopted Em, who was 12 at the time,” she replied. “Em asked about sex when we were 14, and Jackie gave her the toys for her 15th birthday. Said something about how she’d rather we learn from her and from each other than from some stranger we don’t know who doesn’t care about us at all. And that it’s better we learn the safe way, the proper way, from the very beginning because anything else would just get us hurt bad.”

“I like the way Jackie thinks,” Amélie replied. “She’s a smart woman.”

“Unlike me, she knows what she’s doing,” Lena replied. “Her wife is the second luckiest woman on the planet.”

“Second?” Amélie mused as she placed a gentle kiss on Lena’s neck. “Who’s the luckiest then?”

“I am,” Lena replied. “Gotta be to be in bed with a goddess like you.”

Amélie blushed hotly as she sat up and looked Lena in the face. “You’re serious aren’t you?”

“Serious as one can be,” Lena replied. “You’re a goddess. I’m your… uh… loyal…. Priestess?”

Amélie chuckled. “You’re absolutely precious.” She leaned back down for a moment and placed a gentle kiss on Lena’s lips. “You’re okay, right?”

“I’m green,” Lena replied. “You can keep going, unless you’d rather stop. I want you to keep going, but if you don’t want to, I’m not gonna force you.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Amélie asked, moving from her position to get a better look at Lena.

“Absolutely,” Lena replied. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Let go of my sheets,” Amélie said, “I’m going to need you to be able to move.”

Lena smiled and uncurled her fingers from the sheets. “I’m your canvas and you’re the artist.”

Amélie raised a brow. “I was not aware that you’re a poet.”

“I’m not, I’m a,” Lena replied stopping short of saying ‘ _graffiti artist_ ’, “painter.”

“Oh, you’ll have to show me your art sometime,” Amélie replied.

“You’ve already see it,” Lena said proudly. “I designed my tattoo.”

Amélie grinned. “Perhaps you could design me a tattoo sometime?”

“Oi, babe, no one gets free art from me just for asking,” Lena replied.  _Lots of people get free art from me, but no one’s allowed to make requests without paying._  “You gotta pay like everyone else.”

“Sex isn’t enough?” Amélie asked jokingly and when Lena frowned added, “No, seriously, tell me your rate, I’ll pay.”

“My rate… uh… depends on what you’d want drawn,” Lena replied.  _Fuck I didn’t think she’d take me seriously because sex absolutely is enough payment._

“I’ll write down what I want and give it to you the next time I see you, then you can figure out what you want to charge me for it?” Amélie suggested.

“Yes, absolutely do that,” Lena said.  _Maybe then I’ll be able to work out what I could charge for this._  “Now, weren’t you gonna fuck me?”

“You’re impatient,” Amélie replied. “Perhaps I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just let you suffer.”

“Aw, come on now luv, that’s not very nice,” Lena said. “Please fuck me?”

Amélie blinked and opened her mouth like she was about to say something to that, then closed it again and held out her hand.

Lena, confused, took her hand in her own, and Amélie pulled her into sitting upright on the edge of the bed. She waited patiently as Amélie just held her hand for a moment before saying quietly, “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Amélie said. “I’m just admiring you. Wondering how you’re still single.”

“I’m really  _really_  annoying, that’s how,” Lena replied.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Amélie replied. “You’re very cute.”

“Someone can be both cute and annoying,” Lena replied. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”

Amélie shook her head slightly. “You are  _cute._  Why do you think you’re annoying?”

“Because I am,” Lena replied. “It’s just something. A fact. Please, Amélie, are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Why are you… putting off doing me? Is… did I do something wrong?”

Amélie blinked and shook her head quickly. “No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… kind of expected that you’d change your mind.”

“Because of your parts?” Lena asked.

“Because of the… bad thing you… saw happen,” Amélie replied.

Lena nodded. “It’s okay, luv,” she said. “Look, bad things happen. People get hurt. But,  _but_ , you promised I’d be okay. That I won’t get hurt. And call me naïve if you want, I  _believe_  you. I saw bad things, yes. But I had someone looking out for me, keeping the bad things from happening to me. I’d be letting her down if I let the memory of seeing those bad things keep me from making new good memories.”

Amélie nodded and placed a hand on Lena’s shoulder gently. “I  _still do_  promise you’ll be okay,” she said, “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I already know you won’t hurt me,” Lena said. She smiled and nuzzled her hand against Amélie’s arm. “Hurting me would severely damage your chances of me actually designing a tattoo for you,” she added jokingly.

Amélie gasped in (totally fake, Lena could tell,) shock. “You mean to say, I’d make you mad if I hurt you after promising not to?”

“Oh absolutely,” Lena replied. “It’s quite reasonable to say that.”

“So, would I make you mad if I asked you to stand up?” Amélie said. “Please?”

Lena shook her head and stood up, the space in between Amélie and the bed barely large enough to accommodate her in it. “It wouldn’t make me mad.”

“Good,” Amélie said as she wrapped her arms around Lena and pulled her close for a moment.

 _She’s hugging me! She’s **hugging**  me! God why is she hugging me? I wasn’t supposed to want to be her friend for real. She pretty but she’s  **married.**  _Lena hugged Amélie back briefly then smiled and asked, “I don’t mind the hug, but is there a reason for it?”

“Absolutely,” Amélie replied, her hands drifting from Lena’s back to her butt. “There’s absolutely a reason for it.”

“If you wanted to touch my butt, you could do it without hugging me,” Lena chuckled.

“That’s not the reason,” Amélie replied. She stepped around, Lena in arms, until she’d reversed their position. “I’ve decided that I want you to ride me, since you claimed to be so good at it.”

Lena nodded. “If I’m not good at it, would you be… annoyed?”

“Were you lying at the pub when you said you were good at riding things?” Amélie asked in reply.

“No, I wasn’t lying, I was  _flirting,_ stretching the truth a bit. I meant that I’m good at like, riding horses, and mechanical bulls, and bikes, that sort of thing,” Lena replied. “I’ve never rode a person before, it’s bound to be different.”

Amélie chuckled. “You’re so adorable. I won’t be annoyed if you’re not good at it on your first try. But, there  _has_  to be a first time for everything ma chérie, and I’d really like it if your first time trying was with me.”

Lena smiled. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

“Just like that?” Amélie asked. “You’re consenting just like that?”

“Yeah,” Lena replied, “I’m consenting. I’ll try it, if I’m not good or I don’t like it, we can do something else, right?”

“Right,” Amélie said. She released Lena from the hug and sat down on the bed. “We’re not going to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. You don’t have to do anything.”

“But I’m going to,” Lena replied. She smiled and moved closer to Amélie. “Just don’t be disappointed if I suck.”

Amélie chuckled. “You’ve already sucked me,” she said with a wink. “You’ll be fine.”

Lena bit back a laugh and pushed Amélie back on the bed a bit. “You’re too close to the edge, luv, I can’t straddle you if there’s no room for me on your lap.”

Amélie grinned and moved back on the bed so there’d be room for Lena. “How much room do you need? You’re pretty small.”

“Hey you’re not much bigger than me yourself,” Lena protested. “You don’t get to call me short when you’re only a few centimeters taller.”

“Do too,” Amélie replied. “I mean, what are friends for, ma chérie? If not picking on each other over harmless things?”

“You’re a mean ol’ tease,” Lena whined, even though she was smiling. “Teasing me over my height. I bet like, you’ll fit inside me perfectly, then who’s small?”

“Okay that one was a little cruel,” Amélie said, “but I’ll forgive you if you really can take all of me.”

“In all honesty,” Lena said, “I didn’t mean it to be cruel. I’d… actually prefer it if I can comfortably do that. You can only fit so much inside… me. Anything too big and it’d hurt.”

“Now I believe  _you_  are the one procrastinating ‘doing me’ as you said,” Amélie replied.

Lena chuckled. “I’m not procrastinating. I’m thinking.”

“Thinking?” Amélie asked. “Thinking about what?”

“How this will work,” Lena replied. “I mean, I know how it works, I just…”

“Doing is different than knowing,” Amélie replied. “It’s not always enough to know.”

“I like you,” Lena replied. “You understand me.”

“Thank you,” Amélie replied, “I like you too. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Lena replied. “I think I know what to do, but that's not always true."

Amélie smiled softly and reached out, taking Lena's hand gently. "You're going to do wonderfully, I just know it. If you're all that hesitant though, you don't have to do anything at all. We can stop if you'd prefer."

Lena shook her head, slightly defiantly. "Absolutely not. I'm green, I'm greener than a cucumber. We're gonna do this thing. We're absolutely going to do this thing." She gently pulled her hand away from Amélie's and smiled as she placed it instead on Amélie's shoulder. "I just need..."

"More room?" Amélie asked, already starting to shift backwards on the bed sine more. 

Lena shook her head one more time. "No, I don't need more room, I need a little support."

"Support?" Amélie asked as she sat up a little straighter. "What do you mean?"

"I need you to stay still for a moment," Lena replied as she started to move closer, putting one knee on the bed as she did so. "Please, just stay still."

"Absolutely," Amélie replied steadying herself under Lena's weight on her shoulder. "For you, I'll be a statue."

"You're a beautiful statue," Lena replied as she slid her other knee onto the bed and took a breath. 

Here she was, in quite the position if she did say so herself. Straddling the hips of perhaps the most beautiful woman on the planet (though she couldn't be too sure on that, she hadn't seen Emily in years after all, that was a lot of time for Emily to maybe get even more beautiful than she'd been before). Staring down into those soft, deeply encouraging eyes. Waiting for the moment when she just... went for it. 

As she started to lower herself onto Amélie's hen, she stopped at the feather-light touch of Amélie's fingers against her hip. 

"Let me, I want this to be extra nice and easy for you," Amélie said softly, encouragingly as she ghosted her hand up Lena's arm, the arm Lena hadn't consciously realized she was using to steady herself against Amélie's leg. "You're going to hurt yourself if you try to do this twisted up like that. I know it's for support, but, let me handle the messy part. The difficult part," she said sweetly as she moved that arm up to her shoulder. "Don't press down, let your arms hang around my shoulders. If you press down then we'll both be uncomfortable and neither of us wants that." 

Lena smiled as she did what Amélie asked of her, what Amélie directed her toward. This wasn't too awful different from when she'd worn the strap-on at Emily's request. It was just, reversed now. She was on top, even if she was still just following directions, letting someone else lead. It didn't feel too bad. 

Amélie's hand ghosted back down to Lena's pussy and for a moment, Amélie's fingers found their mark, dancing gently over and into Lena. Causing a shiver to run up her spine. 

" _Oh god_ ," Lena moaned quietly, placing her head against Amélie's shoulder, leaning more fully against her. 

"You keep that up and people are going to start believing that I'm trying to convert you to a new religion," Amélie chuckled. "Surely, you're not that close already? From a little teasing?"

Her tone was slightly mocking, but not in a bad way, Lena noticed. She definitely knew what she was doing. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that at all. She was more than happy to let Amélie tease another orgasm out of her if that was Amélie's desire, but Amélie removed her fingers after only a few moments.

"Awww why'd you stop?" Lena whined slightly. 

"Because, má chérie," Amélie replied. "I don't want you to cum until I do this time, understand?"

"I'm not sure I'd be able to help it," Lena replied. "I do understand though. Will you be upset if I cum first?"

"No," Amélie replied. "We're perfectly safe either way. This, is not a feeling you'd be able to properly understand, but being inside a... person with your parts, when they cum, is absolutely a divine life-changing kind of experience. It's not the same with just fingers or with toys. Toys don't do it justice, toys can't feel."

"But you, you feel everything," Lena guessed. 

"Absolutely," Amélie replied. "And it feels like heaven."

"I didn't take you for a religious woman," Lena mused as she felt Amélie shift her weight under her slightly. 

"I didn't take you for one either, but as much as you call out for god, I'm beginning to think I might be mistaken on that one," Amélie replied. 

Lena nuzzled her nose against the nape of Amélie's neck. "This is going to be really nice, right?" she asked. 

“I certainly hope so,” Amélie replied. She moved her hand way from whatever she was doing and placed it on Lena’s hip. “I’m going to help you,” she said, then moved her right hand back while placing her left hand on Lena’s hip. “Don’t worry, the best thing for you right now is to be as relaxed as possible.”

"I trust you," Lena said, "You wouldn't hurt me."

"Not on purpose I wouldn't," Amélie said, "but you need to understand that sometimes people get hurt and it's not on purpose, okay?"

Lena nodded against Amélie's shoulder. "I understand." She smiled and placed a kiss on the nape of Amélie's neck. "I'm ready."

"Good," Amélie mused. "You're going to do great," she said. "You've already been doing so well. You can only do better from here."

Lena smiled, shivering slightly at the praise. "You're so bloody cool."

Amélie chuckled slightly. "And you're such a good girl."

Lena started to reply to that, wanting to tell Amélie that she was also a good girl, but she stopped short as she felt Amélie teasing the tip of her hen against her. For a brief moment she expected that it was going to hurt, that something was going to hurt her, but the expectation went away quickly when she realized that there was no friction. Everything was going smoothly, gently. It actually felt kind of nice, if she were to be honest.

She moaned lightly as Amélie teased the tip of her hen against her clit briefly. If Amélie kept up like that, Lena thought, then she wouldn't be able to last long enough for Amélie to put it inside. But that teasing lasted only a moment, before Amélie was moving her hand back to Lena, spreading Lena's lips slightly.

"Now, má chérie," Amélie said as she positioned herself, and Lena, so that her hen was barely pressing at the entrance to Lena's pussy. "With the lube, and how turned on you are right now, it shouldn't hurt. That being said, just because it shouldn't doesn't mean it won't. There's always a slight possibility that it might hurt."

"I thought your first time was  _supposed_  to hurt?" Lena asked quietly.

"No, that's a myth perpetuated by people, mostly men, who don't know how to properly treat someone like you," Amélie replied. "They use that myth to make it seem like it's  _normal_  and  _natural_  that it hurts, instead of admitting that they're bad at sex and don't know how to properly arouse their partner. It also allows them to decide that they don't need to use lube, because lube would prove them wrong."

"So if… if the lube is supposed to keep it from hurting, then like… why would it still be possible for it to hurt?" Lena asked. This is confusing.

"Because, you've never had something as big as me inside you before," Amélie replied gently, comfortingly. "It may hurt a little."

"Oh, I see," Lena said with a smile. "You're amazing, and nice, and you're gonna treat me nice."

"I am," Amélie replied. "You're a good girl, it wouldn't do to treat you as anything less than a good girl." She pressed her cheek against the top of Lena's head for a moment. "Now, we're going to lower you down onto me, a little at a time. If you do it all at once, it will hurt you."

"And we've already made it clear neither of us want that," Lena mused. "Okay, so a little at a time?"

"A little at a time," Amélie agreed, guiding Lena's hip downward with her left hand.

Lena nodded and followed Amélie's motion with her hip, lowering herself. At first she thought that it might be too difficult, until she felt the tip of Amélie's hen slide inside her gently. It was unlike anything she'd felt before, as she allowed Amélie to gently lower her, guiding the movements of her hips, feeling herself slowly, slowly be filled up inside by Amélie. She shivered slightly as Amélie whispered encouragingly, "You're doing great."

"I'm doing great," she whispered to herself, just as encouragingly. "I'm doing great."

"You're doing more than great," Amélie said, "It's in."

"All of it?" Lena asked, wiggling slightly to see if she could tell just how much of Amélie she'd taken. Then she realized she was nearly flush against Amélie's hips.

"All of it," Amélie replied. "You're doing wonderfully." Amélie's breath caught in her throat as Lena wiggled. " _Mon dieu_ , why?"

"I wanted to see how much was inside," Lena giggled. "So you really can feel everything then?"

"Absolutely," Amélie replied with a slight sigh. "I feel so much."

Lena nodded, then following Amélie's hand's motion on her hip, started rocking her hips gently against Amélie. At first, it was difficult to get the hang of it and also ignore the feelings inside her to keep moving, but after a moment, Amélie's right hand joined her left on Lena's hip.

"You're doing great, sweetie," Amélie said quietly. "You're doing absolutely wonderful."

Lena nodded. She smiled slightly and placed a kiss on Amélie's neck as she took the initiative to also start moving up and down as she rocked her hips. There was nothing she could think of that would feel better to her, than knowing  _she_  was responsible for the beautiful woman under her's moans. That was, until Amélie used one hand to gently guide her face away from Amélie's neck.

Lena grinned as she instead kissed up Amélie's cheek, and then placed a gentle but passionate kiss on Amélie's lips. Moaning into the kiss as Amélie's tongue made its way into her mouth, exploring greedily. Amélie still tasted absolutely divine.

Lena wasn't sure what she could do more to make this feel any better, she wasn't sure she'd last much longer if it felt any better to her. But lasting much longer wasn't the point she wanted to make. She wanted Amélie to feel just as good as Amélie had made her feel, and this required, well, more energy than she currently had.

"I want to cum for you," she whispered to Amélie as she pulled away from the kiss, "but I can't keep this up much longer. I don't have the energy for that. Plus my knees are starting to ache."

"That's quite alright," Amélie replied. "I can manage, if you're not too tired to keep going."

"Oh no, not at all too tired for that," Lena replied.

Amélie smiled and kissed Lena's cheek. She moved her arms from her hips to Lena's back. "I apologize for touching you here," she whispered, "but if I don't you might fall over when I move."

"When you move?" Lena asked, then squeaked slightly in surprise as Amélie deftly flipped their position so that Amélie was on top, and she was now lying on the bed again.

"I trust this position has your legs hurting less?" Amélie asked. 

"It will," Lena replied. "You could have warned me a little first though."

Amélie chuckled. "You would have thought we couldn't do that while I was still inside you."

Lena started to say something in response, but the words were lost when Amélie began moving inside her. This felt way better than anything she could have imagined. She’d always thought that it would hurt, that it would feel bad and she wouldn’t like it, but Amélie made it something nice. Amélie’s pace inside her was teasingly slow at first. Lena’s breath came in halting gasps and moans.

Amélie smiled down at Lena. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

Lena tried to respond to that, but no words made it to her head, much less to her throat. She was getting close, again, she knew that. It wouldn't take too much more, but Amélie kept her pace slow, like she was trying to drag this out for as long as possible. 'You're… a fucking… tease," she said between moans.

"I'm a tease?' Amélie asked with a smirk. "I'm fucking you, that's what you wanted, no?"

"You're a tease," Lena repeated. "Faster?"

Amélie smiled teasingly. "You know how to ask," she replied as she increased her pace only slightly. "You know what you want, don't you?"

"Fuck me harder," Lena replied. "More, harder, use me like a toy."

Amélie shook her head. "I don't want to hear you talk like that, má chérie."

"You asked what I wanted," Lena said in response. "I want you to use me."

"You want me to make you cum," Amélie said, "do you not?"

"I want to make  _you_  cum," Lena corrected. "I want you to feel as good as you make me feel."

Amélie quickened her pace a bit more. "Let me go, you don't need to keep hugging me like this while you're laying on the bed. You're going to be fine, even if you let me go."

"Maybe  _I want_  to hug you?" Lena replied through her moans as Amélie slipped one of her hands down between Lena's legs and started rubbing gentle circles over her clit.

"That is your choice," Amélie replied. "Makes it kind of hard for me to tease your breasts, but it is your choice."

Lena released Amélie from the hug, but before Amélie had a chance to move to her chest, she instead moved to Amélie's. Gently she placed a kiss on Amélie's right breast, then her left. "My chest has been teased enough, yours hasn't been given a lot of attention." She flicked her tongue over Amélie's nipple briefly, then smiled. "Yours are so soft."

"You're the one who said all boobs are good boobs," Amélie reminded her.

Lena grinned slightly. "That's because they are, all boobs are good bo-- _oh god_." Her words turned from words to a pleased moan as Amélie fucked her with a little more force than she'd been using before.

Amélie chuckled. "Am I hitting the 'sweet spot'?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Lena replied breathlessly a Amélie pushed her further and further toward climax. She closed her eyes for a moment, basking in the feelings as Amélie drew her into climax, fucking her much more gently as she did so. Whether or not Amélie came, Lena wasn't fully aware of. She became increasingly aware of her exhaustion as she laid there working to steady her own breathing. She felt herself drifting away and wondered if it would matter much if she asked Amélie to kiss her again.

"Open your eyes, Lena," Amélie said with probably a bit more force than she meant to.

Lena nodded and slowly opened her eyes to see Amélie now sitting beside her, looking a little concerned and more than a little pleased with herself.

"Are you that tired?" Amélie mused. "Just from a little fucking?"

"I worked twelve hours today," Lena replied, "and that was more than a  _little_ fucking, don't you think?" she added in response.

 _"Twelve hours?"_  Amélie gasped in shock. "Why?"

"Boss man at the place hires stockers in groups, each group works twelve hour shifts, four days a week," Lena replied. "No idea why, it'd be much more efficient for a bunch of four hour shift workers, than fewer twelve hour shifts." She yawned. "I wanted to be a cashier."

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Amélie asked gently, running her fingers through Lena's hair for a moment.

"No," Lena replied. "Lost that job to an accident getting the stock off the truck. I was the only one injured but boss man thinks I'm a liability now. So, he fired me."

"Here, let me help you get cleaned up, then let me change the sheets," Amélie said, standing up and holding out her hand for Lena. "Then you can get some sleep."

"You're… not going to make me leave?" Lena asked incredulously as she accepted Amélie's hand and stood up, following Amélie back to the bathroom, where Amélie began running some water into the bathtub (that Lena hadn't even noticed the first time because it was tucked up beside the shower). She didn't fill it much, but it was steamy water.

"No, I'm not going to make you leave," Amélie replied. "You're exhausted, it's late. I'm not going to put you in danger by making you leave."

"I wouldn't be in danger," Lena replied halfheartedly, "Andra's pub is like, two blocks away."

"You should stay," Amélie said, "I'd… feel better if you did. I'd feel like you were safer."

Lena started to reply, but as she settled into the bath she decided that it wouldn't be so bad, staying the night. "Do I have to sleep on the couch?"

"No," Amélie replied, retrieving a rag for Lena and very gently cleaning off the hard to reach part of Lena's back. "You'll sleep in the bed. Try not to fall asleep in here while I go fix that up, okay?"

"Okay," Lena replied, "I'll try not to." She watched Amélie leave then relaxed against the back of the tub.  _Holy shit. That was amazing. But, I wonder if she really would be okay with me staying the night? Or if she expects that I'll leave come morning, before she wakes up._  Absentmindedly Lena cleaned herself off, then ran a little more water into the tub, so she could get a proper soak. She leaned against the back of the tub, stretching her legs out, and sighing slightly. She closed her eyes.

A few moments later, Lena jolted back awake, It had been less than five minutes, but she got out of the tub and dried herself off (mostly) before draining the water from it.  _God I could have drown if I'd stayed asleep in there._  She dried herself the rest of the way off and noticed an oversized shirt sitting on the sink. I _s that for me?_  She didn't bother asking before putting it on. She was too tired for words, too tired for thinking more about anything.

She left the bathroom quietly and, not seeing Amélie anywhere, but noticing that the bed looked different now, just walked over and laid down under the duvet. Amélie had said she could sleep on the bed, so that's what she was going to do. Ignore the ache in her tummy (that was most likely hunger) and sleep.

* * *

 

It was still dark when Lena woke up. At first, she was confused, not only by the feeling of the blanket over her, but by the arm around her waist that very much was not her own.  _Where am I?_  It took a moment for her brain to gather up enough consciousness to remember what, or more particularly who, she had done last night. Very carefully she extricated herself from the arm around her waist and got out of bed. She left the room quietly, trying hard not to disturb the sleeping woman.  _Maybe if I leave, she won't come looking for me?_

She headed from the bedroom, over to the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled slightly at the thought of food. She wasn't going to eat though, she had just noticed when she came in that the easiest to access window in the apartment was above the kitchen sink. It would help if she could look out the window, maybe try to figure out about what time it was based on whether or not she could see if Andra's pub was still open. She didn't feel like she could have gotten more than maybe a couple hours of sleep. So the possibility that the pub was still open was rather high.

But, when Lena looked out the window, the only thing she could really see, was rain.  _I hate rain._  She sighed. If it was raining so much now that she couldn't see past it, it'd probably be raining for some time, and her little mattress back in her dumpster would be soaked and smell bad again. In here, she was warm and dry. Safe.

She looked around for a moment, trying to find whatever she could maybe possibly get away with eating without being noticed. She was going to be here awhile, and she was hungry. Amélie, that beautiful and somewhat mysterious, woman. If this was all real and not some kind of weird dream, probably wouldn't mind if she ate something. But as Lena looked through the cabinets, she became increasingly discouraged. Amélie had so much food and the vast majority needed to be cooked.

After finding nothing she could eat, and deciding that the fridge was too risky, she left the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom. If she was going to stay, she could at least get a little more sleep.

"I thought you left," Amélie whispered sleepily as Lena tried hard to get into bed without waking her.

"I… needed to make sure this was all real, and that I wasn't just dreaming," Lena replied. "I might have to check again in the morning."

"It's okay,” Amélie replied. “Check as many times as you need to. It’ll still be real, I’ll still be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to your regularly scheduled (bad word choice, the only schedule I have is "oh hey I don't work today by some miracle") present day chapters after this.
> 
> \--  
> I've edited this chapter like 6 times since posting it. I was exhausted when I went through the motions of trying to find all the typos (the website I was writing on [4thewords](https://4thewords.com/) [which I highly recommend for anyone needing motivation to just sit down and write (even if just in spurts for a little while), it's a game that centers around writing, using words to fight monsters, collect loot, and other fun stuff, check it out!] isn't the best at the whole editing thing, and word doesn't alert me to typos if they make real words.) 
> 
> If you spot some typos, please rest assured that I'm working on getting rid of them, I just have to see them first. If I haven't gotten them in like a day or so, or they're in older chapters, send me an anonymous ask on [my tumblr](http://subtletyislost.tumblr.com/), and I'll get to it.


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